


After Hours

by halfwayhopeful



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Cooking, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Humor, M/M, Multiple Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13109145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwayhopeful/pseuds/halfwayhopeful
Summary: He had no experience, no prerequisites, and his interview at the restaurant concluded with the manager, Severus Snape, insinuating that he was the product of an incestuous relationship. Naturally, Harry got the job.





	1. After Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This beast started as a one shot, and took my lazy ass about 5 years to finish. It was the grounding stone I kept coming back to through a rough time in my life. It marked a change in my writing style and personal lessons are woven throughout because of that. I’ve changed quite a bit since I started this fic, and I’m proud of how far I’ve come. :) Thanks for reading.

Harry didn’t bother turning on the light as he slipped off his loafers. His apartment was quiet and cold (although he’d spoken to the landlord about the furnace multiple times), and a bit of a mess. He yawned and ran a hand through his hair before stumbling down the hall. It had been his first day at work, and he was exhausted.

When Hermione recommended Harry for a position at the up and coming restaurant where she worked, he’d been horrified. He’d been job-hunting for nearly three months, and though he’d had no luck, he had planned to see a job office about it. He had no experience, no prerequisites, and his interview at the restaurant concluded with the manager, Severus Snape, insinuating that he was the product of an incestuous relationship. Naturally, Harry got the job.

The first day had been admittedly rough. Hermione was assistant manager, and though Harry would have liked for her to train him, she was busy with payroll and seating customers. Unfortunately for him, Snape was completely free, and in his black button-down and slacks, he was a terror.

Harry’s first order seemed to be going well enough, and it was only as he was walking away with a sigh of relief that Severus pulled him into the kitchen and threatened to fire him. 

“I thought it went pretty damn well.”

“Never tell a customer that you are a recent hire. If you make a mistake, apologize and offer the fact with grace. When the first thing out of your mouth is, “Sorry, I’m new.’ the customer will think that you are irresponsible and unwilling to own up to your mistakes. And watch your mouth, boy, or you’ll be unemployed faster that you can say ‘Bullocks’.”

With that, Snape left, probably to bitch at another employee. Harry made a face and flipped him off. A chuckle from the kitchen caught Harry’s attention and he turned to see Ron, his best friend and Hermione’s boyfriend, smiling as he sprinkled cheese onto a house salad. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to him. He gripes for a week or two before moving on to the next victim.”

Harry nodded and grabbed a nearby tea pitcher. “Was he like that with Hermione?”

“Yeah. I remember when she first came here, she was quiet and a fast learner. She stood up to Snape on the third day she worked, and I think he’s been in love with her since.”

Harry laughed. “I guess it’s a good thing you propositioned her before he did.”

“Right? You know Hermione. She might have considered it a ‘career opportunity’ and said ‘yes’.”

Harry chuckled, saw Snape staring from the walk-in freezer, and dashed back into the dining room. Ron glanced behind him and laughed. “I think you scared him, Severus.”

“Get back to work.”

…..

After a few months of being a waiter, Harry thought he was getting the hang of it. He knew the menu like the back of his hand, he rarely fouled up orders, and Snape wasn’t peering over his shoulder nearly as much. His corrections were more by the way of suggestions now, and Harry found that when aimed at others, his blithe humor was rather hilarious. 

At two o’clock on a Saturday, the largest crowd Harry had ever seen spilled into the restaurant. Severus’ eyes narrowed, and he went into the kitchen and came out with an apron. Harry raised an eyebrow. Snape? A waiter? He supposed that he had probably started out as one, but that must have been a millennia ago. 

Lack of practice seemed to have no effect on the older man as he made quick work of his tables, taking drink orders, appetizers, stacking enough plates on his arm to qualify for a world record. He was magnificent. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Severus handing an ice cream dish to a toddler with an exaggerated bow. His smile was infectious.

A slight shove from the man himself jerked Harry back from his reverie. “Get to work, Potter. I don’t pay you to dilly-dally.”

“You hardly pay me at all.” Harry smirked, and set to his designated tables. 

The crowd turned out to be a wedding reception, and the bride and groom sat at the bar, alternating between laughing with friends and gazing into each other’s eyes. Harry found it cute as hell, and in between orders and checking up on his customers, he watched them fawn over one another. 

He wanted that. He thought he’d had that with Ginny, but a few weeks before their wedding, he’d woken up and felt nothing as he watched her dress. He moved out a few days later, and as he’d worked as a cashier in her mother’s café, he’d been out of a job as well. He still felt the loneliness of it sometimes. 

“It’s revolting. I should toss them out, the whole lot of them.”

Harry smiled as he turned to face Snape. “What’s wrong with wanting to be happy?”

“Poor Potter. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“How much older? Fifty, sixty years?” He squinted. “Maybe a hundred?”

Snape’s smirk gave way to a scowl, another one of his trademark expressions. “When you’re my age, you’ll realize being in a relationship does not guarantee happiness.”

Harry blushed, and as his mind screamed for him to bow out while he could, his mouth opened and the usual idiocy spilled forth: “Maybe you’re just a womanizer.” He looked Snape in the eye, bravery incarnate.

He’d caught Snape off guard, but the older man’s expression was downright lecherous as he murmured, “Maybe. Although, it’s hard to be when all of my partners are male.” 

Harry sputtered, and as he watched Snape move away to attend his tables, he couldn’t help but wonder: Severus Snape, evil boss/sex fiend? 

…..

 

“Goodnight, Ronald!”

“Night, babe!”

Harry smiled despite himself as Ron left for the night, kissing his girlfriend of nearly a year on the way out. The smile on Hermione’s face was tired, but happy, and she sighed before resuming her nightly bookkeeping. Harry felt a pang. It was moments like this that he missed Ginny. He had been lectured by the entire Weasley clan, and it was only his friendship with Ron that kept him in touch with them; if Ginny had her way, Harry would be exiled, despite the fact that they were the only family he’d ever known. 

When Ron had met Hermione and told Harry all about her, she had sounded too stiff for his liking. After getting to know her a little better, he found that her logical thinking was a refreshing balance for Ron’s lack of rational. Harry loved her like the sister he’d never known he wanted. 

As she closed the book for the night and let her hair out of its usual ponytail, Harry noted that she was a beautiful woman, most noticeably after a long day of work, and had a good head on her shoulders, unlike some women he’d had the misfortune of getting involved with. 

He accepted her kiss on the cheek with a joke about the newlyweds’ whereabouts, and watched her pad out to the parking lot in the worn flats she brought for after-hours duties

“Potter!”

Harry cocked an ear to the kitchen. “Yes?”

“Get in here!”

Harry glanced at the parking lot with a sigh, and when he stepped into the kitchen, what he saw made him laugh. Snape was balancing three large cardboard boxes in his arms, the highest one on the verge of tumbling backwards. Harry rushed to catch it with a soft grunt, and followed Snape into the walk-in freezer. Easing the box onto an empty shelf, Harry stepped back as Snape lowered the boxes to the ground and hefted one onto his shoulder, then onto a higher shelf. After sliding the last box into a corner, he turned to face Harry. “Thank you.”

“Why didn’t you ask Hermione to help you while she was back here?”

“She worked open to close. I didn’t want to bother her.”

Harry feigned surprise. “He has a heart.” Harry’s fingers traced boxes of burger patties, ice cream. His eyes caught Severus’ in a moment of clarity. “Is it only open after hours?”

The freezer door closing was a muffled thump, and Harry whimpered as Severus descended upon him. His body was a warm contrast to the frigid air, and Harry found himself shivering, even as those warm fingers held the nape of his neck, and a warm mouth closed over his. His stomach was fluttering, and his heart stopped as Snape pushed him against a nearby shelf and devoured him completely. 

…..

A while later, after what may have been ten minutes, eternity, or both, Harry walked out of the freezer, weak in knees and red in nose. Severus followed and closed the freezer door behind him. 

Harry turned to face him, and they watched each other for a moment. Severus’ smirk was one of satisfaction. Harry’s gave a shy smile.

“Can I have a raise?”

“No.”

“Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“No. No, I can’t.”

They watched each other for a long moment, and Harry blushed out of instinct. 

“Goodnight, Severus.”

“Goodnight . . . Harry.”


	2. Closed For the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a waitress is fired and there is finally curry. Oral. Both.

“Watch out, that’s-”

Marlene squealed and dropped the loaded tray. 

“Hot.” Harry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “The tray is hot.”

“Sorry.” said Marlene with a wince. “I was in hurry, and I-”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get out there, we’ll remake this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just . . . go.”

Harry watched her scuttle into the dining room with a grimace. He’d thought training someone would be fun; he loved to teach! Unfortunately, his trainee was a chatterbox and a bit of a klutz. It didn’t help that she seemed to have a crush on him. He’d caught her staring twice! 

“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Potter?” Severus called from the back door, and Harry physically relaxed at the sound of his voice. Severus closed the door with his foot and hefted the large box in his arms higher, heading for the freezer. 

Harry sprinted to hold the door open for him, and Severus raised an eyebrow as Harry followed him in and pulled the door closed behind them as well. 

“Harry . . .” Severus began, but Harry stepped closer in the dark and took the box, setting it down to the side. 

“I feel like a terrible trainer, Severus.”

“How so?”

“Marlene drops things and forgets which tables are hers, and . . . I think she likes me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes! It’d be fine if she were only a bad waitress, but she’s romantically interested in me as well, which makes her insane-” 

Severus’ warm hands pulled Harry closer by the waist.

Their lips met, and Harry cupped Severus’ neck with one hand, the other settling between them on the older man’s chest. Despite the cold, Severus was still warm from running errands all morning. Harry clung to that warmth.

“I missed you.” He murmured as they finally broke for air. “I always miss you so much.”

“I may have thought of you once or twice.” Severus said quietly, one hand sliding to Harry’s ass for a light squeeze.

Harry smiled despite himself and burrowed his face into Severus’ chest, engulfed in the smell he was quickly becoming addicted to.

They stayed like that for a long while, simply holding one another, until the slightest of shivers ran through Severus’ body.

“You’re cold.” Harry said, laughing. 

“Astute observation, Mr. Potter.”

“I guess that means we should get back to work.”

“I suppose.”

Neither moved, and after a moment, Severus buried a hand in Harry’s hair. 

Hermione opened the freezer door and stuck her head inside. “Harry, I think you should get out here. Marlene spilled soup on an infant.”

Harry groaned against Severus’ chest, hearing shrill wails in the distance. The door muffled all sound as it whispered shut.

“Five more minutes.” Harry whined. He thumped his fist against the thin chest beneath him as it vibrated with laughter.

…

“Please fire her, Severus. Please.”

“I can’t just yet. ‘Three strikes’ is the policy.”

“You threatened to fire me after twenty minutes . . .”

“Key word being ‘threatened’, Harry.”

“Ah.” Harry added a handful of napkin-wrapped silverware to the large bin next to him and started on another batch. 

“Harry . . .” Severus began, and Harry glanced at him in surprise.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to come over tonight?”

“Over where?”

Severus laughed once, awkwardly. “To my flat.”

“Oh. Well . . . Sure.” Harry fought the blush warming his cheeks. In the four months they’d been ‘half-together’ (a running joke with Hermione about the lack of sex or overly personal information in their relationship), Harry had never been to Severus’ flat before.

Severus nodded and continued to work on the schedule. Harry made subpar silverware rolls until Severus stood, stretched, and announced it was time to leave. Harry stood slowly, feeling his stomach flip-flop nervously. 

…

The drive wasn’t long, but it seemed to stretch into eternity as Harry watched Severus signal a full minute before he had to turn, and slow to nearly a stop before turning at all. It was kind of cute.

As Severus carefully parked within a tiny apartment complex, Harry felt his heart skip a beat. He might have laughed at himself for being so nervous if he wasn’t so nervous. 

Feeling the tension rolling off Harry in waves, Severus took his hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture and led him to the far end of the complex, ground floor. Harry laughed a little when Severus dropped his keys, but when they stepped inside, he fell silent in surprise. 

The apartment was tiny and sparsely furnished. The living room, or minute space parading as a living room, had only a couch, an end table, and old television. The kitchen, an even smaller space behind a counter, had a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a hotplate on a formica countertop. 

Down a hallway slightly deeper than a doorway, Harry spotted a small bed and table, with a lamp.

“Severus . . .” Harry said quietly. “It’s perfect.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better about my meager living conditions.”

“No, no. It’s so small, there’s no way I won’t feel close to you.”

Severus turned to face Harry, and his smile was a rare sight Harry would sacrifice a great deal to see more often. “You are such a sap.”

“I know, I know . . .”

Severus stepped toward Harry, but instead of kissing him like the young man expected, he merely watched him for a moment. “Are you tired?” he asked abruptly.

“A little.” 

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

Harry sat, sinking into the worn cushion. Severus remained standing and watched him with a look of utter concentration before carefully sitting as well. 

Harry smiled in a way he hoped was encouraging. “Relax, Sev. You’re making me more nervous than I already was.”

Severus nodded and moved closer, pulling Harry to him as he did so and kissing him with vigor. Harry responded in kind, and it wasn’t long before they were both out of breath, Harry’s back pressed roughly against the arm of the couch. 

“Severus . . .” Harry between pants. “I think I should warn you-”

“What?” Severus pushed his hair out of his face, cheeks the slightest pink from their extent of exertion. 

“I’ve never been with a man before.”

Severus sat back a little. Harry had mentioned something about being engaged to a woman named Ginny, but he’d never mentioned being romantically involved with men. Or likewise, not being romantically involved with men. Interestingly enough, Severus found himself aroused by the thought that he was Harry’s first male lover. He pulled the young man in for another kiss. 

…

Harry tried his best not to buck, but Severus made it difficult, doing such amazing things with his hands and mouth. Harry made a conscious effort to unclench the hand in Severus’ hair, but the older man moaned in response, which sent such a wave of pleasure up Harry’s spine that he grabbed Severus’ hair more firmly in response.

“Sev . . .” he began, meaning to say something along the lines of “I’m about to-”, but then Severus cupped his balls and did something with his tongue and there was nothing to be done except give in and release. 

Catching his breath, Harry vaguely registered Severus crawling along his body to curl behind him on the bed.

“Severus.” Harry whispered, covering the hand on his hip with his own. “I . . . No one’s ever done that for me before.”

“You were engaged.”

“I was.”

Severus said nothing, and Harry began to blush. “She never . . . Ginny wasn’t a fan of oral sex. She just wanted to get to it, missionary position or nothing at all.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“It wasn’t.” Harry blurted. His blush deepened. “I mean, I know relationships aren’t always about fun, but she seemed to think fun was forbidden. She was so serious and . . . I loved her a lot, but I’m glad I found you.”

Severus kept quiet for a moment, and Harry worried that he had said too much, but then Severus shifted to lie on top of Harry, face to face. 

“I’m glad you found me, too.” He said quietly, kissing down Harry’s forehead to his nose, and finally, his mouth. Harry buried a hand in Severus’ hair and opened his mouth in invitation, relishing the feel of the older man’s tongue exploring him as carefully as he did everything else, strong hands feathering Harry’s ribcage in a manner slightly ticklish. 

When Severus pulled away minutes later, he looked at Harry with an emotion he was uncomfortable trying to define. The boy’s soft hair splayed out on the pillow, his lips swollen from their kiss, only made the feeling stronger. It was as if someone had grabbed his heart and was rubbing it between two hands, creating a friction burn along the sides. 

Harry traced Severus’ cheekbone with the pad of his finger, and looking into his emerald eyes, Severus knew then that something had changed. This boy meant more to him than he’d ever anticipated.

….

“Spit it out, Harry. It’s obvious something happened.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harry insisted, struggling to keep a straight face as he loaded his tray with steaming soup bowls.

“You’ve been grinning like an idiot all day.” Ron tossed a handful of carrots into boiling stock. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll have to ask Hermione.”

Harry froze halfway through the kitchen door. “What makes you think Hermione would know?”

“Not sure. But the look on your face right now is priceless. You look constipated.”

Harry blushed and made his way to his tables.

Things had been . . . interesting . . . between him and Severus. It was nearly impossible for Harry to get through a shift without Severus pulling him aside as if to lecture him, only to kiss him breathless as soon as they were alone. More than once they ended up in the freezer, Severus’ hands roaming under Harry’s shirt and thigh deliberately pushed between his knees. Harry began to mentally refer to these instances as ‘ambushes’, and he knew the other employees had noticed their frequent joint absences. 

Marlene, a hostess until further notice, had pointedly asked him where he’d been for the last thirty minutes. Harry blushed and said he’d gone to the bathroom to straighten up and lost track of time. 

Hermione knew, Harry was convinced. She had to know. She’d known about Severus and Harry since they first began dating, and although Harry updated her often about the status of the relationship, he hadn’t known how to tell her Severus had sucked him off and gotten all lovey-dovey afterward. How was he supposed to start that conversation?

He knew she’d seen them making out, however. She had been kind enough to ‘ahem’ loudly just before Marlene walked into the kitchen earlier that day. 

Harry felt like a slut, giving in to Severus’ sexual advances so easily, but he couldn’t seem to help himself around the older man. He had tried to narrow it down to the eyes, the height, or the appeal of dating an older man, maybe. 

But there was no way around it: Harry could not resist Severus, and he felt that he had possibly fallen in love with the dark-eyed man. 

…

Although he was loath to admit it, Harry was hardly surprised when Severus asked him to stay after close. He watched Hermione wave and head for her car, and laughed at himself for feeling she was his only defense against the lecherous older man awaiting him in the kitchen.

With a sigh, Harry removed his apron and pushed open the door of the kitchen. 

“Candles?” Harry murmured, looking around the kitchen and jumping a little as he noticed Severus at the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious in a frying pan. 

“Sit down.”

Harry grabbed a nearby stool and sat at the prep table, watching Severus work and wondering where this was headed. The older man began abruptly without turning:

“I know that I’ve been a little handsy lately, and I wanted to apologize. Since the first night you came over, when we were first . . . intimate, I’ve wanted to be with you every second, and I abused my power as your employer to do so. It’s rather unlike me, actually. Hermione informed me, although I received the impression she did not want to, that you and Ginny were not prone to public displays of affection. I realize now, of course, that my advances in the workplace are unprofessional as well as uncomfortable for you. I apologize for that. Truly. I never meant to embarrass you or demean you in any way, or prompt your reputation as a ‘sex-hungry skank’-“

“Wow. I had no idea anyone thought of me that way.”

“Marlene made a comment this afternoon-”

“Marlene?”

“Yes. I informed her, however, that I do not allow that kind of slander between employees and advised her to find another job.”

“You . . . you fired Marlene? For me?”

“If you see it that way, I suppose.”

Harry stood from the stool and came around to hug Severus from behind, face pressed into the back of his thin dress shirt. “That’s so romantic. It’s like you’re defending my honor.”

“I would have done the same for Granger or Weasley.”

“I know, but . . .” Harry pulled away and smoothed his hands down Severus’ back. “It was me. And I know you care about me, Severus.”

“Yes, well . . .” The older man turned slowly, blowing on the dripping spoon in hand. “Taste this.”

Harry opened his mouth, eyes locking with Severus’ as his lips closed around the spoon. The older man smiled faintly at the sight.

“Delicious.” Harry said softly once he had tasted and swallowed the warm curry.

Severus nodded, turning at the waist to set down the spoon and turn off the stove. 

“Harry-” he began, looking into the younger man’s eyes.

“Yes, Severus?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being someone I can care for.”

Harry shrugged. “I try.”

Severus pulled Harry to him for a kiss.  
...................


	3. Raves, Reviews, and Very Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting serious, and the Malfoy duo is here in all their arrogant glory.

...

Harry woke up struggling for breath and in need of a lengthy piss. Sometime during the night, Severus had come to lie on top of him, and at the moment he was at an angle, his bony elbow pressing into Harry’s stomach.

“My ‘fragm.” Harry joked quietly, and he maneuvered himself out from under his lover an into the bathroom. He relieved himself and tiptoed down the tiny hallway to the kitchen, where he intended to make coffee.

Within twenty minutes, completely unaware of what had come over him, Harry had made a makeshift breakfast of hash browns, an omelet, and toast. There wasn’t enough milk for coffee, and Harry opted for orange juice instead.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Severus grunted in surprise as he wandered into the kitchen, bleary eyed and grumpy.

Harry blushed. “Quite a few things, recently.”

Severus smiled as lecherously as he could manage so early in the morning. “Care to elaborate on that?”

Harry managed to redden even more. “Just eat your damn breakfast.”

….

It wasn’t unusual for Harry and Severus to show up to work together, looking as if they hadn’t gotten much rest. 

But it was unusual for Hermione and Ron. Harry couldn’t help but stare as his best friends walked into the restaurant, looking as if they’d had one hell of a night. Ron’s shirt was inside out.

“Guys, we’ve talked about this. No partying on week nights!” Harry called from the kitchen window as Severus chopped carrots for stock. Harry’d had been blathering away about Draco Malfoy’s performance on the latest season of ‘The Hottest Dish’, a reality cooking show which Severus had made no attempt to watch.

Ron did not look amused, and Hermione blanched and darted to the bathroom. Harry shot Ron a confused glance. “What the hell did you do last night?”

Ron shook his head, a grim expression on his face. “I didn’t do anything but listen.”

Harry frowned. “Do you . . . do you want to talk about something? Did you have a fight?” 

Ron shook his head. “Oh, it’s worse. But . . . you’ll have to talk to Hermione. I’m not sure if she’d be alright with me telling anybody just yet.”

Harry nodded slowly, trying to puzzle out what was going on.

Hermione returned looking worse for wear, but more alert. “Severus, can I have a copy of the new menu, please? I’d like to have a look at it before the staff arrives.”

Severus nodded and gestured toward his briefcase, which Harry fished through for the menu draft.

“Severus, I didn’t know you added a Kid’s Menu. That’s great!”

“And just in time, too.” Severus quipped mildly. “It looks like we’re going to need one.”

“Yeah, I get asked about it all the time.” Harry continued, oblivious to the sideways glances Hermione and Ron were sending one another, and the knowing smirk Severus had worn since Hermione ran for the bathroom. “Every mother asks me for a damn coloring book. I’m like, ‘Look, lady, this is a four star restaurant, not a daycare center-”

“Harry, the menu?!” Hermione said shrilly, and Harry hopped off the stool and gave it to her. She studied it for a moment, mouth twisting a little. 

“Hermione? What’s wrong?”

“I’m going upstairs.” She muttered, backing quickly out of the kitchen. After a moment, Ron followed.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON AROUND HERE?” Harry bellowed, and Severus set down his knife with a snort, coming around the counter to murmur in Harry’s ear, “I suspect Hermione is either pregnant or has suffered a miscarriage.”

Harry stiffened. “Really?”

What kind of friend was he that he hadn’t caught on?

“Don’t feel too bad about it.” Severus said gently, sensing Harry’s distress. “When she feels comfortable discussing it, I’m sure she’ll come to you first. You are her closest girlfriend . . .”

“I’m a guy.” Harry deadpanned, and Severus chuckled.

“Are you sure about that? There’s this little sound you make when-”

“Shut up!” Harry whipped around to smack Severus’ arm, blushing furiously. “Just . . . stop talking. Shouldn’t you be cooking or something?”

….

It had been nearly a year since Narcissa’s death, and Lucius had yet to clear her things out of the bedroom. He’d asked Dobby to stay out of it after her death, declaring that he would clean it himself from then on. 

He never did. Admittedly, Lucius barely knew how to dust properly. He’d grown up in the Manor with a maid who cleaned his bedroom for him, and when he’d moved into the apartment with Severus, the surly brunette had cleaned for them.

More and more often after Narcissa’s death, Lucius found himself spending the night in the apartment he had shared with Severus, reminiscing about their early life together. 

Lucius’d found the scrawny urchin in a culinary academy funded by his father, where he taught presentation and advertising. Severus was an eager student with no money and plenty of inventiveness and drive. Of course, Lucius’ only interest at first was the boy’s innate talent, and the opportunities available should he associate himself with him.

Over time, Lucius began to admire him for more than his financial potential. The boy was sarcastic to a fault, intelligent and observant, extremely wary of the world around him. He wasn’t much to look at, Lucius had to admit that, but he had a stubborn confidence that was refreshing, and Lucius found himself thinking of him often, whether he was in the vicinity or not.

When Severus’ parents died in an apparent double-suicide, he showed up on Lucius’ doorstep, freezing in the rain and completely alone. Lucius cautiously allowed him to stay the night, pleased to find that he was well-behaved and didn’t steal anything. 

After a few months of Severus’ dutiful housework, and Abril Malfoy’s thinly cloaked irritation, Lucius decided to move himself and his ‘pet’ into a small apartment his parents had purchased for him, should he ever have to sleep in the city. It was only a matter of time before he let his desires get the best of him, and within a few months, he and Severus were sleeping together, knitted closer than ever before. They worked together, lived together, and shared the same bed. 

Severus had just turned 19 at the time.

And then, at a Christmas party Lucius would not have attended had his mother not threatened to sell his apartment, Lucius met Narcissa Black for perhaps the fifth time in his life. She had grown into an elegant, wintry creature and while his love for Severus had been slow and growing, Narcissa struck him as perfect in every way, immediately.

He wanted her to be his as soon as possible, and that was the end of it.

He tried to make the transition as smooth as possible, telling Severus offhandedly about her attendance at the party, showing him a picture. He saw the glimmer of hope in Severus’ eyes, knowing that the younger man was hoping they could be together, all three of them; that he could have her perfection, and Lucius’ too. Lucius took the picture back with a sigh.

It was when Narcissa finally allowed Lucius her body, as he took her carefully, that he knew he wasn’t a homosexual. Severus had intrigued him with his passion and intellect; perhaps his lithe, almost feminine body. 

It was unbelievably easy to make Severus his, because the boy wanted so badly to be loved.

Narcissa was another matter completely. She knew she was beautiful, and coyly expected everyone to reaffirm this fact. As they kissed and murmured, and she led him into her secluded villa, he knew that he wanted to marry her, to appoint her his equal. 

Severus was decidedly not his equal. He was Lucius’ release, his play-thing, his indulgence. Narcissa was everything else, essentially his completion.

Severus took it hard, understandably. He cried, the first round of tears Lucius had seen since his parents died. 

“I don’t understand, Luc. Wha-what did I do?”

“You haven’t done anything. I just love Narcissa, and I’m going to . . . marry her.”

“But I still love you.” Severus whispered. “I’d do anything for you, Lucius. You know I would.”

“Severus.” Lucius said firmly. “I’m going to ask her to marry me this week, so I need you to start looking for somewhere to live. You can stay here for the time being, but my mother will have you thrown out if you’re still here when Narcissa and I move into the Manor.”

Severus gripped the kitchen chair for dear life, tears streaming freely. “Please, don’t.”

Lucius shook his head slowly. He felt guilty for hurting Severus this badly, but knew he was making the right decision. “There’s nothing you can do, Severus. It’s already decided.”

“By who?!” Severus shouted, wiping his tears angrily. “You never said a word about this until now, and you expect me to just go along with it? This is absolute bullshit, Luc, and you know it!”

Lucius said nothing, staring at Severus’ stark white knuckles. The kitchen was quiet for a long moment; Severus’ ragged breathing was the only disturbance.

“Come to bed.” Severus said finally, his eyes glued to the kitchen table. “Please.”

They moved silently into the bedroom and Severus began to undress, red rimmed eyes glued to Lucius’ body as he undressed as well.

Lucius knew what Severus wanted, now, and he knew he owed him this chance. 

It wasn’t long before he was incoherent, but Lucius shook his head slightly every so often. He knew it was Severus doing this to him, but his mind kept supplying him images Narcissa as she had been in the silk sheets of her villa: flushed, yielding.

Severus was so pale, dour, and unwilling to compromise. Even as he began to unravel, Lucius knew it was no use. Picturing Narcissa’s pliant body, Lucius shuddered in climax.

Severus slid off the bed and hurried to the bathroom afterward. Lucius heard Severus sob before turning on the shower and felt a twinge of the loss he knew Severus was feeling tenfold. 

Slowly, Lucius crawled off the bed and stripped the sheets, idly wondering if Narcissa would too busy for an impromptu dinner the night after next.

He had bought the ring that very morning.

….

Harry nearly forgot about Hermione’s baby drama as Severus ran him ragged with errands and obscure instructions on top of his usual waiting duties, which were already taxing.

“Can you hand me that avocado?”

“Where’s Ron?”

“Weasely is in the bathroom with Granger.”

“Well, tell him to get his ass back in the kitchen! I have work to do!”

“Harry, please, the avocado . . .”

It didn’t help that the arrival of Draco Malfoy caused quite a ruckus, and Lavender, the latest floozy Hermione had hired as a trainee, seated him in Harry’s section on the patio, along with Blaise Zabini, his arch rival from ‘The Hottest Dish’.

“Good evening, sir. Are you expecting anyone else to join you?” Harry managed to keep his voice even, but only just. Malfoy grinned, and Harry felt a little odd. He’d seen this man on television, every Wednesday night for the past few months.

“You know, ‘Harry’”, Malfoy said with a smirk, reading Harry’s nametag conspicuously, “I wasn’t planning on it, but why don’t you ask Mr. Zabini over there if he’d like to join me. I think I owe him a drink . . . or twelve.”

“Of course, sir.” Harry turned on his heel and bit his lip to keep from giggling. He’d seen the episode when they’d made that bet.

Blaise Zabini had apparently overheard Malfoy, because he was already standing with his messenger bag over his shoulder. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please. Be sure to put it on Malfoy’s tab.”

Harry nodded, practically sprinting to the bar. He only realized he’d forgotten Malfoy’s drink order when Hermione asked if he needed help with the patio.

“I’ll be fine. Just a little star struck.” 

Harry made his way quickly to the wine closet, reaching on his tiptoes to grab the second oldest, most expensive wine in the restaurant. Knowing Malfoy (if only from The Hottest Dish), he had expensive tastes, and liked his wine the price of a small cottage.

Harry scooped ice into an on-hand bucket, cursing Severus for changing the menu so suddenly. Just to impress some asshole critic! Harry had enjoyed being a four star waiter. Five stars was too much work!

…

Lucius combed his hair over the thinner areas in an effort to look younger. He knew it probably didn’t matter to Severus, as they’d parted on bad terms yet again, but it mattered to him. He wanted his lover back again, and he was willing to go to great lengths to ensure his hopes became a reality.

He had kept a careful watch on the restaurants in need of review from his posh office at the culinary magazine, and had pounced at the opportunity to visit Severus’ restaurant under the pretense of ‘business’. If any of his associates thought it odd that the editor was reviewing a restaurant himself, they didn’t say so. They knew better, and had chosen to keep their jobs rather than speak out about it. 

Lucius debated whether or not to wear cologne. He opted for arrogant optimism and drenched himself in it.

…

Severus knew that Lucius would be critiquing him that night, and it was in the name of bitter irony that he prepared Beef Wellington in a ginger mushroom sauce, the exact dish that earned him a scholarship to the culinary academy owned by Abraxus Malfoy.

Severus had received a letter of notification that he was to be critiqued, and as soon as he saw the name of the magazine, he knew Lucius was coming to pay him a visit in the name of professional duty. It seemed too soon for Severus’ liking. 

He remembered clearly the unbridled want of those first years, when Lucius had come to him whenever he could slip away. Severus had often dropped everything and catered to Lucius’ needs, both emotional and carnal.

Severus remembered the rage and bitterness when Lucius had appointed him the godfather of his son, how that had sickened him to no end.

The way Lucius had sobbed in his arms the night Narcissa died, clinging to Severus in his tiny apartment, begging him to move back into the flat they’d once shared. Severus would have, wanted to. And Lucius retracted the statement the next morning with a half-hearted chuckle.

“I must keep up appearances, for Draco.” Lucius said stiffly, and Severus had hated him for it. 

And now, to see him again, knowing that he still owned the apartment, no longer had to support his son, and had been a widower for nearly a year . . . 

Everything seemed just so, and Severus was sure that Lucius was coming for him again. For the first time in his pathetic life, Severus had a reason to refuse. 

He loved Harry Potter, fiercely.

….

Harry set down Malfoy’s wine and Blaise’s gin and tonic on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your drink order, Mr. Malfoy, so I grabbed what seemed the most fitting.”

Draco glanced at the label and smirked. “Not bad, Harvey. Not bad at all.”

“Harry.” Blaise said with a laugh. “His name-tag says ‘Harry’.”

Draco gestured for Harry to pour the wine. “Always an advocate for the working man, Blaise. Is it because your mother was a peasant?”

Blaise took a sip of his drink. “Are you an insufferable dick because your father is a millionaire?” He grinned at Harry, who had been listening to their conversation with the utmost concentration. “I’ll have an order of fried calamari, Harry, and the chicken Bolognese as my main.” 

Harry startled badly at being caught so off-guard, and blushed from what felt like the roots of his hair to the bottom of his ribcage. “Um, y-yes, alright. Will this all be on, ah, one tab?”

“No.” 

“Yes.”

Blaise and Malfoy stared at one another for a moment.

“I’ll pay for everything.” Malfoy said airily, and he took a sip of his wine with a smirk. “It’s the least I can do after shattering Blaise’s hopes and dreams last season.”

“You didn’t shatter anything.” Blaise insisted, downing his drink quickly and pushing the glass toward Harry. “I was going to open a restaurant whether I won or not.”

“If you draw up a business plan, I’d be happy to invest in your little shish-kabob stand.”

Blaise shook his head, exasperated. Harry couldn’t blame him. On the show, Draco had been disagreeable; in person, he was downright infuriating.

“What are you eating, Malfoy? I’m sure Harry has other tables to attend to.”

“I, uh, I do actually. Wow. I almost forgot.” Harry said with a frown.

“Yes, yes, because we’re so enchanting . . .” Draco drawled, and he opened the menu for the first time that night, glancing at it with a bored expression. “I’ll have a caprese salad for starters, non-fat Italian dressing on the side, and a burger, medium-rare and plain, with mustard, lettuce, and pickle on the side. And no sesame seeds! If you only have sesame buns, I’ll just have to go without.”

Blaise snorted. “That’s a novel concept. A Malfoy going without . . .”

“I’ve gone without before!” Malfoy said with a sneer. “I wasn’t allowed a decent bed at all during filming-“

“It was only three months!” Blaise flailed an arm, narrowly avoiding the wine bottle. “And they were the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in!”

“Compared to the dirt floor of your childhood home, I’m sure even a bed of nails would be preferable.”

Blaise’s face twisted into a kind of anger Harry had never seen on the show. Blaise had always been the calm, collected type, and Harry wasn’t sure if he was capable of rage, but he looked it.

“Harry, may I have a bottle of my own, please? An older bottle?”

Malfoy smirked. “Trying to bankrupt me, Blaise?”

“I’m trying to drink myself to death to get away from you.”

….

Lucius Malfoy’s arrival didn’t cause an uproar among the customers as Draco’s had, but when Hermione ran to the kitchen to tell Severus, he swore and began to shout orders, including one to Harry as he ran past expeditor. 

“Harry, Lucius Malfoy is your responsibility.”

“Whaaaat? But Severus-”

“Harry, please. You’re the only one I trust not to fuck this up.” Severus said, grating cheddar over a plate. 

Harry sighed, running a hand over his hair. “Alright, alright. But you owe me!”

“Of course.” Severus looked up with a smirk, catching Harry’s gaze. “We’ll sort out the details later.”

Harry grumbled and went back out to the dining room, heading straight to Lucius Malfoy.

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy. My name is Harry Potter, and I’ll be your server tonight.”

Malfoy glanced up from his notepad with a barely-concealed sneer. “Where is Severus?”

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. “Severus Snape is in the kitchen, sir. If you’d like, I can ask-”

“Don’t bother.” Lucius swatted an irate hand in Harry’s general direction. “I’ll see him later, anyhow.” He looked back down at his notebook and scribbled for a moment. 

“I’ll have a glass of your finest champagne.” Malfoy said suddenly, without looking up. “And I don’t want any of those atrocious biscuits. I’ll have a house salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side.”

Harry nodded, a mumbled “Yes, sir.” the most he could manage without losing his temper.

He headed back to the kitchen to call in Malfoy’s order, which made Severus raise an eyebrow. “He’s never ordered a salad in his life.”

“Maybe he’s on a diet.” Harry grumbled, loading a tray with Draco’s salad and Blaise’s calamari. Walking toward their table, Harry slowed. How would Severus know what Lucius usually ordered? He’d never reviewed the restaurant before.

….

Blaise and Malfoy were still arguing when Harry returned to their table, although they seemed more reserved than when he had left. This probably had something to do with the sizable amount of wine they had both ingested, if their dwindling bottles were anything to go by.

“All I’m saying,” Draco said, hands splayed before him and cheeks flushed from the wine, “is that your final dish was phenomenal. I was surprised the judges chose mine.”

“Well, I’m sure it helps that your father is a producer for the show, and owns a culinary magazine. Maybe just a little bit.”

Draco waved a hand lazily, and Harry set down their plates before he got sucked into their conversation again and forgot. Draco eyed the side cup of dressing suspiciously before dipping in a finger to taste. His eyes widened a little, and he looked to Harry, eyebrows raised. “I’m impressed! Uncle Sev finally learned to make a decent dressing.” 

“Uncle Sev?” Harry stammered, mind on the brink of imploding. “You know Severus Snape?”

“Of course I do, Howard. He’s my godfather.”

“Harry.” Blaise corrected mildly, and Harry bit his lip, mind racing. 

“Severus Snape is your godfather. And . . . Lucius Malfoy is your father?”

“Right you are, Humbert.”

“Harry!”

“Blaise, try this dressing.”

“No way, Malfoy. You’ve already double dipped!”

“I did not.” Malfoy dipped his finger in the dressing again.

“Well, now you have!”

“Nonsense! That was a different finger-”

“I’ll just . . . go now.” Harry muttered. 

Severus was Draco Malfoy’s godfather. Lucius Malfoy and Severus had been friends. Why hadn’t Severus said anything during the thirty minutes Harry had rambled about the on-screen antics of Draco Malfoy? Or even when Hermione broke the news that Lucius was the long awaited critic? Now that he thought of it, neither Hermione nor Ron had mentioned Severus changing the menu for a critic before. Was Lucius a special case? Had they been closer than friends?

Harry darted into the men’s bathroom, splashing water on his face and looking himself in the eye. “I will not overreact to this information. I’m sure Severus will tell me everything when we get home.” 

Harry winced. They didn’t exactly live together, yet . . . Yet? What was-

“Harry!” Ron stood in the doorway. “Where have you been? Severus is freaking out, and Malfoy’s getting restless.”

“Which Malfoy?”

“The older, asshole-y one.”

Harry nodded and checked over his appearance in the mirror again. 

“Alright, Ron, I’m coming.” 

…

Harry groaned as he sat on a bar stool and began counting his tips. He’d made over one hundred dollars, which wasn’t unusual for him on a Friday night, but he could have made a lot more if Severus hadn’t assigned him the snobbiest, most taxing customer he’d ever had the displeasure of serving.

Lucius Malfoy had sneered when Harry arrived with his glass of champagne, saying quite plainly that Harry appeared to enjoy star gazing rather than tending to his customers. Harry narrowly avoided punching Malfoy in the face, choosing instead to mention that he had several customers on the patio, namely Lucius’ son and his ‘friend’ Blaise.

Lucius had glared at Harry and asked for the Ginger Beef Wellington, and lemon meringue pie for desert. 

Harry tried his best to keep his patience for the rest of the night, not wanting to screw up Severus’ chances at a good review, but Malfoy never warmed up to him, and after he ventured outside to have a word with his son, he seemed in an even more dour mood.

He tipped Harry the change left over to the next dollar, and Harry had to talk himself out of strangling the older man. It helped that Lucius sour mood seemed to have stemmed from his son’s newfound fascination with Blaise Zabini. Harry was glad to have been a part of it. 

With both bottles nearly empty, Draco had moved his chair to Blaise’s side of the table, and they were talking quietly, huddled together in the cooling night air. They finally left half an hour after closing at the urging of one Harry Potter, who offered to call a cab.

“We’ll be fine.” Draco slurred, arm slung around Blaise’s neck. “I’ll have my driver- hic- pull around front.”

Blaise simply shook his head. Harry couldn’t say he was surprised to find Blaise held his liquor well. “We’ll be fine. Thank you, Harry.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and fished out a fifty dollar bill, handing it to Harry, as Draco had failed to write in a tip.

“Buy yourself a decent haircut, yeah?”

Harry simply blushed.

Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, refused to leave until he saw Severus, sitting stiffly in the dining room jotting in his notebook until Severus finished with his nightly duties and emerged from the kitchen. 

Frowning and exhausted, Severus began to smile the moment he saw Lucius, and Harry felt a pang, a trickle of worry. Lucius smirked and stood, the two men embracing as Harry gathered his tips and slunk into the kitchen.

Hermione and Ron were in a deep conversation as Ron sliced a cheesecake. Harry made to leave the way he came, but Hermione called him in, and he sat on a stool, reluctantly.

“We have something to tell you, Harry.” Ron began, rubbing the back of his neck.

“We barely found out ourselves, so we weren’t sure how long to wait-”

“You’re having a baby, aren’t you?” Harry blurted, smiling weakly at the surprised expressions on his friends’ faces. “Severus gave me a clue earlier, because I had no idea.”

Hermione began to blush. “Yes, well . . . Yes. I am currently pregnant. But anything could happen. The test could have been wrong due to a hormone imbalance; I could suffer a miscarriage, or fall down the stairs or-”

Harry stood and hugged her before she could depress him any further, and after a moment, Ron joined in.

“I’m really, really happy about this.” Harry mumbled into Hermione’s hair. “It’s like we’re all one big, happy family.”

“Harry?” came Severus’ voice from the doorway, and Harry sighed before reluctantly pulling away to face his lover. 

“Severus.”

“Can I speak with you?”

Hermione and Ron stared at Severus expectantly.

“Alone.”

“Oh, yes, well . . .” Hermione hugged Harry again briefly, and Ron patted him on the shoulder before heading out into the dining room.

Harry sat down again, and Severus stood before him, arms down and hands clasped. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered, Lucius Malfoy and I are friends.”

Harry nodded, unsure of where Severus was going with this admission.

“I’ve known him since I was seventeen, and I befriended his wife Narcissa after they married. I am the godfather of their son, Draco.” 

“He said that your salad dressing has improved.”

“Lucius?”

“Draco.”

Severus raised a brow in surprise. “Draco was here tonight?”

“Along with Blaise Zabini, yes.”

“Ah. I haven’t heard from Lucius or Draco since Narcissa died last year.”

“I see.”

“Lucius and I are going out for drinks.” Severus continued, watching Harry carefully for his reaction, which thus far was lukewarm. “I’m not sure if I’ll have time to stop by before work, but I’ll see you either way tomorrow morning. Do you still have the key I gave you?”

Harry nodded slowly, brows furrowing before he could school his expression into something more lenient. “You were sleeping together before he married Narcissa, weren’t you?”

Severus paused, cocking his head slightly. “Yes. We lived together.”

“Have fun.” Harry said dismissively after a moment, but he couldn’t stop himself from sniping, “And I’m not your mother, Severus. You don’t need to ask me before going out for drinks with someone.”

Severus frowned, putting his hands on his hips. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Really?” Harry spat, standing from his stool in a flash, causing it fall and clatter on the ground. “You didn’t bother telling me that you have a past, much less one involving Lucius Malfoy. You played dumb when I mentioned Draco Malfoy, your godson, and proceeded to ramble about him for the better part of half an hour, and you changed the whole fucking menu when you heard Lucius was coming! You even had the balls to tell me to serve him! If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were sizing me up, comparing me to him so you could make a more ‘well informed’ decision about which one of us was ‘preferable’!”

Severus shook his head, reaching for Harry, who backed away, nearly tripping over his forgotten stool. “Harry, we can talk about this-”

“In the morning? After you’ve off and blown him and god knows what else? Just leave me alone for a while, okay? I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Harry stormed out the back door, Severus stooped to pick up the stool with a sigh.

…

Harry drove a little recklessly to Severus’ apartment, with the intent of destroying everything. By the time he got there, he was more tired than he thought he was, and he ate the left over hash browns and watched ‘When Harry Met Sally’.

“No,” he argued weakly with the television. “He loves you, he just doesn’t . . .”

Harry fell asleep halfway through the movie, his stomach full of potato and his heart full of angst. 

…

Severus knew he should not have gone into the apartment he and Lucius shared for most of their years together. There were a thousand memories within every room, things he’d rather forget. 

But he chalked it up to curiosity and followed Lucius up the stairs and into the apartment. Most everything was exactly as he remembered, although there were new pictures, mostly of Draco and Narcissa, and a few of Severus with either or both. 

Severus smiled at a black and white photo Abris Malfoy had taken just after he’d moved into the Manor. Severus and Lucius were both in the kitchen, cooking one of those large country breakfasts after which she would claim she’d never eat again. Both Severus and Lucius were smiling down at their prep work. Severus remembered that their hips and thighs had been touching, and he remembered fondly the warmth.

He didn’t hear Lucius step closer behind him, but he could smell him, spiced and musky.

“I’m in a relationship.”

“I know.” Lucius said softly, reaching a hand to brush Severus’ hair aside, causing a shiver to run down his spine. “The brat who waited on me tonight?”

“Harry.” Severus rasped, as Lucius closed the distance between them and placed a light kiss at the base of Severus’ neck.

“He has no idea the things I can do to you.”

Severus stiffened as Lucius reached a hand around to cup him through his dress pants, shuddering as the slender hand began to knead.

“I’ve missed you.” Lucius whispered, turning Severus’ face with the other hand, capturing those lips with his own.

Lucius tasted different, Severus thought, different than he had a year ago, and certainly different than Harry.

Who he loved. Who was home right now, probably in a self-induced food coma.

Severus pulled away, gasping. “No.”

“Severus . . .”

“No. I . . . I have to go.”

…

Harry woke slowly, and looked at the clock, scowling. It was four am, and Severus wasn’t home yet. Harry was a light sleeper, and he would have heard the door, the shower something.

Grumbling, he rolled off the couch and put his plate in the sink, shuffling off to Severus’ bed. He had just started to drift off when the door opened and Severus took off his shoes and coat, making just enough noise to keep Harry from falling asleep.

“Go away.” He mumbled as Severus slid into bed behind him, reeking of Lucius’ cologne and attempting to spoon him. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You’re in my bed.” Severus said mildly, and Harry merely grunted in response.

“Nothing happened.” Severus whispered, and Harry scooted away from him with a garbled groan.

“You smell ravished.”

“I’m not ‘ravished’. Lucius attempted to seduce me and I took his coat by mistake.”

“You’ve been gone for four hours.”

“I had to walk from the other side of town.”

“You walked?” Harry asked despite himself, turning to face Severus now that he was more awake.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you catch a cab?”

“My wallet is in my coat. And I didn’t want to use any of Lucius’ money. It’ll give him a reason to stay in touch.”

Harry shook his head, reaching to feel Severus’ cold cheeks, his ears. “You’ll have to contact him about the wallets.”

“I have Draco for that. Did you like him?”

“He’s even worse than on the show, which I didn’t think was possible. But I think he and Blaise Zabini are together now, or something.”

Severus chuckled, and pulled Harry to him, kissing him deeply as their bodies melded together.

“It’s not that easy.” Harry whispered as they pulled apart for air. “I need to know . . . Severus, you’re still in love with him.”

Severus stiffened, and Harry regretted asking. He’d known the answer, anyway. Just needed confirmation, really-

“I don’t know if I’ll ever stop loving him. Even now, I remember the good times we had, how much I worshipped him when I was younger. But . . . Lucius betrayed me, Harry. He kicked me out of our home and strung me along for years, because he could, and it was convenient.”

“So, you’re here now because you love him, but you think he’ll hurt you again?”

“I’m here now because I want to be. Even if I’m still in love with what I had with Lucius, it’s in the past. I think I . . . Harry, I love you more.”

“More than Lucius now, or in the past?”

“More than anything.” 

Harry shivered and didn’t resist and Severus shifted above him and kissed him again, again, again.

“We’ll need to talk about this.” Harry murmured as Severus got out of bed to remove his work clothes. “This isn’t over.”

“Of course not.” Severus said quietly, heading for the bathroom to scrub Lucius’ scent off his body.

Harry nodded off, sighing in his sleep when Severus pulled him close twenty minutes later and twined their limbs before drifting off to sleep.


	4. Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a box changes everything, and a past is revealed.

........

They had been at it for three days now, and Harry was sure they’d packed everything. The walls of Severus’ apartment were completely bare, not that he had decorated much to begin with. Severus had insisted on doing the final walk through alone, and Harry stayed with the truck they had borrowed from Charlie, the only Weasley besides Ron that had forgiven him after what happened with Ginny.

Severus returned with a dusty lockbox and a sour expression. Harry chose not to ask, but he was dying to know what was in the box, and they both knew it. The drive to Harry’s apartment was thick with unvoiced curiosity. As they pulled into the apartment complex and parked, Harry prepared to break the uneasy silence, but Severus beat him to it.

“When I’m ready, I will include you in this part of my life. But for now, I am not.”

Harry covered Severus’ hand with his own, clenched atop the box that was between them on the dingy seat. “I want to know every part of you, no matter how long it takes. I mean it.” Severus nodded, unsure of what to say, but Harry seemed to understand, leaning across the seat to kiss him gently.

“We should live together some time. What do you say?” Harry whispered between kisses, each longer than the last.

“I don’t know.” Severus murmured, with that flicker-smile Harry adored. “I’ll have to be persuaded . . .”

……

“I don’t think it’s ridiculous, Ronald. Yellow is a very neutral color!”

“Hermione, I’m a guy. And as a guy, I have to say, a yellow room is not ‘neutral’. If I had a yellow room growing up, I would have turned out a flaming queer.”

Hermione snorted and sat in her new rocking chair, glancing around the spare room in mid-transformation from study to nursery. “With all your brothers cursing and beating each other to a pulp? You would have turned out exactly the same.”

Ron shook his head and knelt in front of the rocking chair, splaying his hands on Hermione’s belly. “What do you think, Mione? Boy or girl?”

“Ron, I told you. There’s-”

“No way of knowing for at least a month, I know. But come on, guess.”

“Well . . .” Hermione frowned thoughtfully. “By my calculations, I was at peak ovulation when the egg was fertilized, so . . .” She smirked. “I guess we’re having a baby of either sex, relatively soon.”

Ron shook his head, chuckling. “My mother says she knew we would all be boys because her thighs were swollen.”

“So, what, they weren’t swollen when she was pregnant with Ginny?”

“Nary a chafe, the way she tells it.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t need to know that. What are you doing?” 

Ron had cupped a thigh with both hands, humming thoughtfully. “They feel a little bigger, I think. I’m painting this room blue.”

“Ronald, don’t be ridic-Ron, that tickles! RON!”

……

“Would you rather have potato soup or left over curry?”

Severus grunted vaguely, seated cross-legged on the floor as he sorted through his records.

“You know, I could always cover myself in whipped cream and lay on the counter, or something.”

Severus looked up at that, a smirk on his face. “Really?”

Harry blushed. “Sorry. I was trying to get your attention.”

“You’ve had it for a good nine months, I reckon.” Severus admitted, and Harry grinned. “I’m not hungry. But I’ll cook for you, if you are.” Severus offered, unfurling himself and walking stiffly to his record player, placed on the kitchen counter for the time being.

Harry shrugged. “It’s been a long moving day, that’s all.”

Severus said nothing, placing a record on the turntable and fiddling with the volume. The opening chords of “Subcity” drifted out of the speakers, and Harry fought a smile. He would never have guessed upon meeting him, but Severus loved Tracy Chapman. 

Severus held out a hand with the ghost of a smile, and Harry laughed. “Really? You wanna dance?”

“You doubt me, Potter?” Severus’ smile grew into a more familiar expression: a sarcastic grin.

Harry came around the counter, grinning, and allowed Severus to pull him closer, burying his face into the crook of the older man’s neck.

Here in Subcity, life is hard.  
We can’t receive any government relief.  
I’d like to give Mr. President my honest regards  
For disregarding me.

Swaying with Severus, Harry knew he should savor the moment. It wasn’t often the surly man was in such an affable mood, and he wouldn’t be for a long while, once he realized that at his worst, Harry liked to sleep in a cocoon of blankets and preferred his toilet paper scented and hanging from the top.

Severus pulled back and they kissed for a small eternity, his hands roaming along Harry’s back and settling in his back pockets. Harry’s hands draped around the back of Severus’ neck.

“I love you.”

“I know.” Harry whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his forehead onto his lover’s chin. “Take me to bed, please.”

“Our bed.” Severus rumbled back, smiling. “The bed we share.”

Harry shivered at that, kissing Severus soundly. “Yessss.” 

……

Upon waking, Hermione had to pee very, very badly. It wasn’t so much that she had to get up again, because she wasn’t so large yet that it would be a nuisance, but it was the third time that night, and she and Ron had to open in the morning.

She got up anyway, and when she slipped back into bed, Ron curled closer to her with a sleepy mutter.

“Married . . . before?”

Hermione froze. They’d barely talked about marriage. “Do you think we should?” She’d always assumed they didn’t need to get married, and she and Ron were in agreement about this.

“ ‘S only proper.” Ron mumbled, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. “Don’t you want to be a Weasley?”

Hermione chuckled. “I rather like being a Granger, actually.”

“I could take your name.” Ron said, with a yawn. “I could be Ronald Billius Weasley-Granger, and our children could be Gertrude and . . . Manchester.” 

“I like Rose for a girl. And maybe . . . Hugo, for a boy?”

“We should have a coin toss, I think.” Ron mumbled, beginning to drift back to sleep. “Heads for Rose, tails for Gertrude.”

“What if it’s a boy?”

“Tough luck, being a boy named Trudy.”

…

Severus had woken with Harry in his arms more times than he could count, but the knowledge that this was their bed now, in their apartment, was a feeling he had only shared with Lucius, and even then, he hadn’t felt this content. He shifted back to watch Harry sleep. His hair was unkempt as usual, his cheeks flushed, his soft breath escaping in quiet huffs.

Severus loved Harry, he knew. It wasn’t so much a rote fact as a daily realization.

Unable to resist, Severus kissed him lightly, immensely pleased when Harry drifted into wakefulness and curled a warm hand around Severus’ bare shoulder.

“I was dreaming?” Harry mumbled as he pulled away, and Severus smirked, running a hand through Harry’s unruly mop.

“It appears so. Good morning.”

“Mm.” Harry stretched and kissed Severus, moving to lie on top of him. Severus’ hands traced lightly along Harry’s bare back, raising goose bumps in their wake. They separated grudgingly, his hand still cupped at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“What did you dream of?” Severus’ voice was soft, a warm glide into the breath that they shared.

“Guess.”, Harry whispered with a smile, brushing Severus’ nose with his own.

“I already know. But I want you to tell me, so I can say something uncalled for and you can pretend to be upset, and I’ll have to console you, which entails-”

Harry cut him off with a peck, and with a warning smirk, he leaned to rest his chin on Severus’ shoulder. “I dreamt that we were older. We didn’t look older, but I just knew; it was dream knowledge, I guess. And we were lying in bed together, but it was in a different room, in a house. And you were just . . .” Harry paused for a long moment. “You were just holding me, like you’d always been there holding me. Like . . . we would be there forever, and that’s how we were meant to be.” 

Severus said nothing, and he could practically hear Harry’s mind lurch into motion at his lack of response. He exhaled slowly and shifted from beneath him, leaving the bedroom and a reeling lover in his wake.

He returned to find Harry staring at the ceiling, clutching at the bedspread nervously. Severus clambered onto the bed and cleared his throat.

“I want to be in that house with you, sometime. But this is important. Come here.”

Harry’s gaze drifted between Severus and his clenched fist, but he slid over the comforter to sit next to him, eyes wide.

Severus held out his fist, fingers uncurling to reveal an unfamiliar key. To the lockbox, then.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Harry whispered. 

Severus stared at the key with a scowl, then, steeling himself, looked Harry in the eyes.   
“I’m glad you did. I want you to have me. That includes everything that’s inside of that box, eventually.”

Harry stared at Severus for a moment before flinging himself into his arms and clinging for dear life. 

“Please mean that.”

“I do. I do mean it.”

Harry sighed, holding tighter. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not asking you to do this.”

“I want to. Honestly.”

Harry nodded, and moved to sit across from Severus, staring at him expectantly.

Severus swore quietly and gave Harry the key.

…

Draco raked a hand through his hair in irritation, glaring at the blank page before him as if it was to blame for his lack of inspiration. As the winner of ‘The Hottest Dish’, he was guaranteed funding and celebrity endorsement for whatever restaurant concept he pitched to the producers, one of whom was his father. He’d toyed with the idea of a semi-upscale restaurant, but the décor and theme were giving him the most trouble. 

Blaise often shouted suggestions as he bustled around Draco’s new apartment, decorating, though he swore he was doing nothing of the sort. As if Draco didn’t notice Blaise had rearranged his pictures or moved a lamp while he’d had been in the bathroom or smoking on the balcony.

After the initial morning-after awkwardness, Blaise had admitted the hidden feelings he’d harbored during filming. They’d spent nearly all their time together since, trading barbs and lengthy kisses in equal measure. Draco’s recent move to a larger apartment was an unnecessary excuse for Blaise to come over as often as possible, whenever he could get away from his food truck.

“I have no idea what to do, Blaise.” Draco groaned, slumping to rest his head on the drafting table.

Blaise finished up in the kitchen and came out to the living room, pulling Draco upright by the shoulders. “Close your eyes.”

Draco snorted in disbelief, but did so after a light nip on the ear from Blaise.

“Now, relax.”

“How can I when-”

“I said relax!”

Draco grumbled, but began to breathe in deeply through his nose, anyway. This was idiotic, and unlikely to work. But he wanted a solid concept so badly! Anything that could help was worth a shot, right?

“Now, imagine the perfect place for you and all of your loved ones, the perfect place to relax and enjoy each other’s company,” Blaise continued. “What does it smell like? What kind of food would you serve there?”

Draco imagined his mother and father, friends, Blaise and himself at a long table. Preferably somewhere near the ocean. “The walls are . . . ivory and cream? . . . with silver accents, maybe some slate grays and blues. It smells a little spicy, but not too exotic. We’re eating . . . seafood. Mediterranean? Drinking wine.”

“Perfect. If you build it, we will come.” 

Draco opened his eyes and turned in his chair. “How did you do that? I’ve been stuck for hours!”

“I am a man of many talents.” Blaise said with a smirk, and Draco pulled him into a kiss. 

“You have to be my sous chef.” He said breathlessly as he pulled away, grinning.

“You have to promise not to boss me around too much, and to give me full credit for my input.”

“I can’t guarantee anything that drastic, really.”

Blaise groaned and strode back toward the kitchen. “No deal.”

“Partial credit.” Draco called, standing from the drafting table on stiff legs.

“No.” Blaise spat, swiping Draco’s cigarettes from the kitchen table and storming out onto the balcony.

Draco sighed and looked around the kitchen. Everything had been moved over the course of the last week. He grabbed his scarf and stepped out onto the balcony.

…

It had been over a month now, and with Harry getting swept up in Weasley and Granger’s baby plans and upcoming nuptials, Severus half-heartedly hoped the boy had forgotten exactly how much weight the box and its’ key held in his mind.

Harry had taken to wearing the key around his neck on a chain, which Severus thought was unnecessary, but it made him feel better about his decision to entrust him with it in the first place. At least the boy hadn’t opened the lock box the first night, unaware that their relationship could be at an early end. Severus wasn’t certain they were strong enough to weather his sordid past, and Lucius’ vast involvement within it. He wasn’t eager to test their bond so soon, either.

One afternoon, Harry vomited and left early, though Severus swore he’d shown no sign of sickness that morning. He pawned it off as a stomach bug or over-eating on Harry’s part, until he realized his young lover hadn’t worn his necklace as he begged Severus to let Granger drive him home.

Severus did his prep in record time, hoping he could make it home to give some context on a box full of potentially incriminating items.

… 

The box smelled like Lucius Malfoy, the same spiced cologne Harry had smelled on Severus that night so many months ago. Severus had stacked everything in chronological order with the newest additions on top, so Harry flipped the box and its contents, tenderly picking up the first item.

Harry studied the photograph of Severus and Eileen Snape. They looked eerily alike; both had dark hair and eyes, hooked noses, thin lips. They were the same height at the time. Severus looked to be about seventeen, though his mother looked much older than the late thirties Harry thought she’d have been.

“She’s beautiful, Severus.” He whispered.

Harry stared at the picture for a while longer, before picking up the next item, a photo of Severus with Lucius Malfoy serving food from behind a counter. Harry studied it, looking for clues of their intimacy. They seemed to be focused on their work; neither of them smiled and they weren’t even touching.

“They weren’t together yet.” Harry muttered, and he studied the photo closely, grunting at the sight of Lucius’ clearance card and Severus’ student ID. So, that’s where they’d met, then. At a culinary academy, funded by the Malfoy family.

The next item was a clipping from a culinary magazine. It detailed Severus’ scholarship to a culinary academy and subsequent employment at a restaurant called Shenanigans, which was owned by renowned chefs Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.

“This article was written by Lucius.” Harry muttered, eyeing the name with furrowed brow.

The next article was from a small town newspaper. Harry read silently, the reality of Severus’ past engulfing him like a tidal wave.

Severus’ mother and father had gotten married two months before Severus was born, and moved into a tiny house at the edge of town. Tobias Snape (a tall, dark haired man with a smug grin and a glass of wine in the wedding photo) was arrested several times for public intoxication and domestic violence, but Eileen often bailed him out, and always refused to press charges.   
Severus attended the local elementary school, where he won several academic awards, and after completing school, was awarded a scholarship to a prestigious culinary academy. On the evening of June 22nd, 1978, Eileen Prince Snape died of unknown causes and Tobias, with a blood alcohol level of over .3, died of intoxication.

Past the lump in his throat, Harry whispered, “Where did you go?” to the young Severus in the article picture. Severus took the article from him and placed it in the box, chilling Harry to the bone as he backed away toward the headboard.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” He rasped. “I didn’t-”

Severus waved a hand and sat on the bed, next to the box. “I gave you the key as a token of my trust. I knew you would open the box eventually, and I’ve done my best to . . . prepare for this inevitability.”

Harry stared for a moment, wide eyed. “I’m so sorry, Severus. Your parents . . . What did you . . . How did you survive?”

“I went to Lucius. He was my only friend at the time, and he had hinted before that I was welcome in his family’s home if I ever decided to strike out on my own. He knew how rough my home life was. I showed up on his doorstep the night my parents died, and from that moment on, I became his ‘pet’. And he treated me like one when we were in public, introducing me as his ‘project’ to all his high society friends.”

Harry scowled at the box. “And when you were alone?”

Severus looked at the box as well, wistful. “I thought he loved me. He often said he did, and I was young and desperate enough to believe him.”

“Did he love you? The way I-The way I love you?”

“No.” Severus said, tersely. “He meant it in the most selfish, convenient way possible. The way one loves a piece of clothing, or modern art. He loved me because I reflected his inflated, delusional views of himself.”

Harry nodded and gripped Severus’ hand with his own.

…

Hermione wasn’t sure if Ron meant what he’d said that morning in bed, and she reasoned that if he brought it up without her prodding, then he was seriously considering it, and she ought to give marriage a second thought. They had talked about it before they knew she was pregnant, and agreed to talk about it again in six months. It had been three, but he’d brought it up while half-asleep, which meant he’d been thinking about it in his waking hours as well.

She wasn’t too surprised when Ron came up and wrapped his arms around her while she was taking inventory that night. “I meant what I said, Hermione. I’m gonna make you an honest woman.”

“I’m a compulsive liar now, am I?”

Ron laughed, a quiet rumble that went through both their bodies. “Hermione, please marry me.”

Hermione smirked. “You’ll have to do better than that, Ron. A 500 word essay detailing potential benefits, maybe?” 

“How about a sonnet, or a doll made completely from locks of your hair?”

“That’s disgusting!”

“I’m set, Hermione. I won’t rest until I make you my bride.” 

“You’re going to die of exhaustion within a week.”

“Not if I wear you down first.” Ron vowed, turning Hermione in his arms and kissing her soundly. Hermione resisted half-heartedly, but sighed and snaked an arm around Ron’s waist after a minute, pulling him closer still.

…

The last item in the box was Lucius’ review from several months prior. He’d praised Severus’ dishes and called them ‘masterpieces’, while calling the wait staff ‘daft, slow-moving, and over-bearing’. 

“He’s just jealous of my hair.” Harry said with a shrug, and Severus grinned wryly in surprise.

“That’s it. That’s exactly it.” He laughed, pinning Harry to the bed and kissing him. “I never thought . . . God, I never thought I’d be able to share this with anyone. I was worried you would think so much less of me.”

“How could I? I’m not exactly a saint myself.”

Severus scoffed, kissing Harry again. “What have you done, crossed the street without looking? Overcharged a drink special?”

Harry shook his head with a frown and took a deep breath, looking Severus in the eye. He did this a few times, seeming to work himself up to something. 

“I left Ginny after she had a miscarriage.”

Severus froze, staring at Harry with a furrowed brow. “What?”

“I was never sure if it was the right time to tell you, but . . . Listen, could you get off me for a second?”

Severus shifted off Harry and moved to the other side of the bed, as far as he could get without climbing off. Harry had known that Severus was not going to take this well, but this was the worst possible reaction. Confusion and . . . betrayal?

“I met Ginny at one of Ron’s birthday parties. I was, what, eleven? So she would have been ten. She was nice, really shy around me, and Ron teased both of us about it for years, until I was fifteen, and I started to like her back. So I asked her out, and of course she said yes. She’d been infatuated with me for all that time. 

“We dated for three or four years, until we were both out of school, and a year after she graduated, we found out she was pregnant.” Harry looked up from the comforter string he’d been unraveling, hoping to receive some iota of compassion from Severus. He wasn’t even looking at Harry anymore, staring out the window with his arms wrapped tightly around himself.

Harry bit his lip, hard, swallowing against the lump in his throat. This was exactly why he didn’t want to tell Severus, but he knew they couldn’t continue unless all of this was out in the open. They’d never make it to that future if they weren’t each completely aware of what the other person carried with them.

“So we got engaged, and moved in together. And at first, everything was great. I really wanted to be with Ginny for the rest of my life. She was about three months pregnant when she miscarried. It was horrible. She woke up screaming in pain, and I had no idea what to do, so I called Molly, and that’s how the rest of the family found out she was pregnant in the first place. It was this small thing, this tiny . . . fetus, and we cried forever, it seemed like. Neither of us could sleep for months, and Ginny couldn’t work, and I barely could, but I couldn’t focus.”

Harry paused again and glanced up at Severus, who was looking at him with a dazed expression. 

“She . . . wouldn’t let me touch her after that. For an entire year, more than a year. I thought she needed more time, but every time I tried to talk to her about trying for another baby, or even having sex, she would start crying and saying that I only cared about sex, which wasn’t true at all. I loved Ginny for every other reason under the sun.”

Harry let the tears run over. They were long overdue. Severus watched him cry for several minutes without moving to comfort him.

“But, I started to feel differently about her. I started to feel nothing. And I tried not to let it show, but it weighed on me, so . . . I called off the wedding. And Ginny tried, she promised that she would try harder to make me happy, but it was too late, and I moved out.

“I know that it was selfish and stupid of me to give up like that, to walk away from a woman who would go to the ends of the earth for me, but I literally did not feel the same way about her anymore. So I left, and I lost my job, and most of Ron’s family that ‘adopted’ me agreed to pretend I don’t exist. I had to start from scratch, with just Ron and Hermione in my life. Charlie just forgave me about a month ago.”

“How could you not tell me this?” Severus whispered. “I’ve asked you about her, and you’ve always said it wasn’t important.”

“It’s not important to us. That could never happen to us.”

“Yes it fucking could!” Severus shouted, and Harry pressed back against the headboard. Severus had only raised his voice at him a number of times, and most of them were during stressful situations at work. “I’ll never have a miscarriage, but you might get bored of me, or decide you don’t want me anymore, and that’ll be it. You’ll just leave and I’ll . . . I-I can’t do that again.”

Harry shrank into himself and pulled his knees into his chest. “I wouldn’t leave you, or betray you, not like he did . . . And what about Malfoy, anyway? He left you and married someone else, and you kept a fucking box full of his keepsakes!” Harry clambered onto his knees. “How do I know you’re going to leave me for him!? He obviously wants you back.”

“I DON’T WANT THAT ANYMORE!” Severus roared, climbing to his knees, too. “I don’t . . .” He grabbed at his hair, tugging angrily. “I don’t want him anymore. I can’t help what memories I value! But I can . . . I can love you more. I do love you more.”

Harry covered his face with a trembling hand. “I can’t compete with Lucius Malfoy, Severus. He molded you. I don’t think . . . I don’t think you can love me as much as I want you to if you still have feelings for him.”

Severus stared. “Are you . . . Do you want to leave? Already?”

“No, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave you. But I want to get out of this room for a few hours, okay? I need to think, and I’m sorry about the box. I just . . . I’ll be back.”

And with that, he took his jacket and left.

…

Severus didn’t know how long it had been since Harry left. He was still curled up against the headboard and hadn’t bothered getting up to turn on the light when it became too dark to see. He heard the familiar sounds of Harry unlocking the door, shuffling into the bathroom to brush his teeth and prepare for bed, tossing his scarf and coat into the hallway closet.

Harry didn’t turn on the light when he entered the bedroom, which Severus was grateful for. He didn’t know if he could handle being blinded after such a stressful day. Harry stood by the bed for a moment, huffing softly, before sliding up onto the edge, just out of Severus’ reach.

“I went back to the restaurant.” He said quietly, shifting on the comforter. “I needed to talk to Ron and Hermione, get their take on things.”

“I presume you told them everything.” Severus said in a tight voice.

“I told them that your past is as messy as mine, and we’d had a fight.”

“Ah.”

“Severus . . .” Harry began, but he stopped himself and sighed. “I’m sorry about what I said. I’ve been worried about Lucius Malfoy since I first heard about him, and when I knew how much he meant to you, I was . . . afraid. I mean, you adored him. And sometimes I feel like I’m not elegant enough for you, or witty enough, or . . . handsome enough. How am I supposed to compete with him?”

Severus closed his eyes, though it made no difference in the dark room. “You don’t have to compete with him. I’m not interested in re-living the relationship we had. Believe it or not, I’ve had enough emotional abuse for a lifetime. Several life times, in fact.”

Harry bit his lip and whispered, “I’m sorry I never told you about what happened with Ginny.”

“I wasn’t exactly open about my past with Lucius. I’m sure our motivations were similar.”

“Aversion to pain, on my end.” Harry supplied, and Severus couldn’t stop himself from flicker-smiling.

“Fear of rejection, on mine.” He murmured after a moment. The silence afterward rang with the honesty of his confession.

Harry slid across the expanse between them and covered Severus’ mouth with his own, shifting his body to cover the older man’s as well. Severus pulled him closer, and they moved together slowly, separating for air only when absolutely necessary. Severus pulled away long enough to remove Harry’s shirt and, with a grunt, reversed their positions.

“Severus,” Harry moaned, running his fingers through the long hair brushing his cheeks, cradling Severus’ hips in the V of his legs. “Please, I-”

Severus cut him off with another kiss, cupping Harry’s jaw as they ground together, trading gasps and moans in equal measure.

“I love you.” Harry whispered breathlessly, fumbling ineffectively at Severus’ clothing. 

Severus stilled and climbed off the bed, removing his clothing in record time. “I never thought . . .” Severus stopped at the edge of the bed, fingers digging into the bedspread. All was still for a moment as he pulled his thoughts together. “I thought I would never find anyone else.”

“Come here.” Said Harry, and Severus climbed back onto the bed and let the younger man pull him close.

“I don’t know how this will end. But . . . I want to keep you around for as long as possible. I’d miss you too much if you went away.”

Severus wavered between wanting to ravish his optimistic lover and wanting to flay him for being so naïve. “That does nothing to inspire my confidence, Mr. Potter.”

“Mr. Potter? Severus, you sound like a crabby professor. ‘Mr. Potter, where is your homework assignment?,’ ‘I’m sorry, sir, I forgot.”

Severus ground their hips together with a growl, and Harry chuckled, “Oh, you like that, do you? Have a thing for classroom settings?”

“I have a ‘thing’, as you so eloquently put it, for hooligans who don’t realize they’re playing with fire.”

Harry shook with laughter, which Severus put a stop to by kissing him breathless once more.

…

“You might as well come out and say it, Weasley. I can feel you glaring.”

Ron blushed, but came around the expedite window and stood before Severus, posture rigid. “Harry came back to the restaurant last night, crying and convinced you were going to leave him for someone else. What the hell did you say to him?”

Severus scowled. “I believe it’s none of your business, as it’s been resolved. You can ask him yourself when he comes in.”

Weasley narrowed his eyes and said, “The only reason I haven’t objected to this whole ‘relationship’ is because, so far, it seems you’ve made Harry happy. But if I find out that you’ve broken his heart, we’re going to have a talk. I might have to lay you out.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Is that a threat, Weasley? I would have to suspend you for a physical altercation with a superior.”

“Duly noted.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m a good friend.”

They glared at each other for a moment. Severus noted grudgingly that the Weasley had grown a back bone at some point.

“What are you guys talking about?” Harry called from the back door, locking it behind him and taking off his coat.

“Nothing.” Ron said quickly, face still red from the confrontation. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. Very much so.” Harry flung his coat into a cubby and came through the kitchen to where they were standing, sidling up to Severus and wrapping an arm around his waist. The older man caught Ron’s puzzled gaze and raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“Have you and Hermione talked about the ceremony yet?”

“Not exactly. We wanna get married before the baby is born, but we’re not sure exactly when. Probably in March.”

Harry hummed and nodded, sliding away from Severus, walking into the dining room. Ron watched him go and turned to frown at Severus. “So, you made up.”

“You don’t have to sound so disappointed.”

Ron threw his hands up and went back into the kitchen to finish his prep.

Severus watched him chop vegetables with more force than necessary and smirked, following Harry into the dining room. They had less than an hour until lunch service, and there was much left to be done.


	5. Christmas Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At long last, Harry is reunited with his family, and a thin Santa changes everything.

.....

"If you don't shut off that infernal noise, I'll be forced to reconsider our entire relationship."

"I don't believe you." Harry replied with a grin, cranking up the music even louder. "Not after what you said last night when you thought I was asleep."

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about." Severus pulled the schedule book toward himself with practiced nonchalance. Harry shook his head and turned the volume back to normal, hopping off his stool to curl an arm around Severus from behind.

"You can pretend to be a Scrooge all you want, Severus. I know you have the Christmas spirit in your heart, somewhere."

"You're insinuating I have a heart to begin with, Potter. Frankly, I'm offended."

Harry chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to the pale neck before him, which quickly devolved into a lazy trail toward the juncture of Severus' shoulder. The writing slowly stopped, and Severus (grudgingly) tilted his head to the side for better access. Harry attempted a bite, and Severus groaned quietly and pulled away, just as a brightly clothed Albus Dumbledore entered the office from the kitchen.

"Good morning, boys. Off to a sensual start, I see."

Harry coughed and studied his shoes, even as Severus grunted his dismissal and wiped his neck with the collar of his shirt.

Albus had come to town to visit for the Christmas holidays, as he was co-owner of Severus' restaurant venture and had friends in the area as well. He and Harry had become fast friends, driving Severus to the point of frustration with their common interest of getting a rise out of him, often teaming up to toy with his finicky tastes and anal-retentive habits.

"How are you, Severus?" Albus stood beside Severus and picked up his schedule book, only to have him forcefully grab it back.

"As well as I can be, considering the racket I've had to endure all day."

Albus smiled. "Oh, the music? I find it rather enchanting. Harry, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. It was Severus' idea."

"I highly doubt that." Albus chuckled, watching Severus drive his pen deeper into the schedule book as he wrote. "I'm off to see Minerva, Severus. You should stop by sometime. She asks about you often."

"I'll visit that old tabby when she stops offending me with a plaid factory masquerading as an apartment."

"Will you wear the yellow sweater she mailed you when you visit?"

"You know what yellow does to my complexion." 

Harry barked a laugh at this as he sorted holiday decorations.

"Well, I'm off. Harry, I'd like you to consider stopping by the Weasley's."

Harry looked up in shock. "How do you-"

"I met Molly Weasley at an entrepreneur meetup a few weeks ago. She'd heard you work at my restaurant, and I told her I'd pass along the request."

"I . . ." Harry fiddled with a bent paper snowflake. "There's a reason I don't go over there anymore, sir. It's personal."

"Just a suggestion, Harry. I'll see both of you later."

Dumbledore left the office and Harry sighed, dismissing the snowflake as a lost cause. "I don't want to talk about it." He said shortly, unprompted.

"I didn't ask you to." Severus snapped back, walking over to the stereo and switching it off in the middle of 'Deck the Halls'.

…

"Potter."

Harry shook his head and rolled away in their bed that night.

"We're going to have this conversation whether you like it or not."

"You can talk to my back, Severus. That's not much of a conversation." Severus grabbed Harry by the shoulder and turned him onto his back, moving to loom over him.

"I know why you don't want to see the Weasleys. It's the same reason I never wanted to see the Malfoys again. But it's a small world, Potter. You still work with Ronald, and when he marries Granger, she'll be part of their clan, too. Then what? Are you going to spend all your holidays with me? I hate every single one. You'll be miserable."

Harry averted his eyes, biting his lip a little. "How can I face them after what I did? Everyone knows what happened, why I left so suddenly."

"I had to face Narcissa Malfoy for years before she died. At every milestone for Draco, I had to suffer her watching me, judging me. Do you think Lucius cared? He made me godfather of his son without a second thought and I played along with it because . . ." Severus sighed. "It doesn't matter. The point is, you won't be alone. Ronald personally invited both of us, at his mother's request."

"So everyone is conspiring against me? How long has this been going on?"

"That is not the case at all, and you know it, brat. Besides, I've heard Ginevra has moved on as well. She's bringing a date."

"Great." Harry groaned. "Now I can feel even worse about leaving her. What if he's nice and ridiculously attractive?"

"I don't know, Potter, run away with him. Whatever makes you happy."

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, smiling despite his best efforts. Gently, he cupped a hand on the side of Severus' neck. "Can I dress you?"

"What?"

"Can I choose what you wear to Christmas dinner? I'd feel more confident if I highlighted your best features."

Severus groaned a little, lowering himself to lie on top of Harry. "Is this the only way to convince you to go? With shallow vanity?"

"More than likely." Harry smirked and pulled Severus into a passionate kiss, shifting to wrap his legs around his sides. After several minutes, Severus pulled back, panting. He ground down onto Harry, watching with satisfaction as the younger man stifled a whine.

"I would only do this for you." Severus said gruffly. "You're the only one I would ever-"

"I know." Harry said quietly, and his smile wavered and returned. "I love you. I'll go, but for you. I don't want you to worry."

"You very nature worries me, Potter." Severus said with a smirk and descended for another kiss.

…

"Ronald! Help!"

Ron Weasley bolted down the hallway of the small flat he shared with Hermione and found her lying on the bathroom floor, grimacing in pain.

"What happened?" He gasped, crouching with open hands, scared shitless. "Where does it hurt? Are you in labor?'

"No, no. I . . . I'm stuck. There's a cramp in my – FUCK!"

"Hermione, I've never heard you say that. Wow, um . . . What's cramping?"

"My calves, both of them. I dropped the toothpaste and I crouched down to- AAH!"

Ron re-positioned Hermione to lean back against the tub and, grateful for the boxer shorts she'd slept in since becoming pregnant, began to gently massage her calves, first one, one after the other, gradually increasing firmness. Hermione sighed, tilting her head back as Ron worked on her calves.

"If I weren't going to marry you anyway, I would consider this a viable reason."

Ron laughed at that, pausing the massage to lean over and kiss his fiancé on the nose. "I guess you're lucky I fell for you when I did. Dozens of women would kill to get their hands on my . . . Well, my hands."

He shifted back to kneel beside Hermione, setting a splayed hand on her swollen belly. 

"She's kicking again." Hermione sighed.

"Oh?" Ron moved his hand a little to the left, lighting up as he felt a stronger kick.

"She likes you, unfortunately."

Ron laughed, rubbing idly. "I'm sorry, Hermione. All this commotion's got her excited."

"Don't worry, it's normal. I read about it."

"Oh, did you?" Ron chuckled. "All those books and none of them advised you not to crouch for toothpaste?"

"Ronald." Hermione chided, unable to stop herself from smiling a little. "It's never been that bad before. I wasn't prepared."

"There's a first time for everything." Ron muttered, frowning when Hermione didn't respond. "What's wrong, 'Mione?"

"What if Severus doesn't convince Harry to come to the Burrow Christmas Eve? I want everyone there, especially now."

"I have faith in Severus' methods. God knows what he's doing right now to convince Harry-"

"Erk." Hermione grimaced. "No thank you. It's bad enough they're making out so much lately-"

"Right?!"

"Harry told me the other day that Severus finally dropped the "L" word outside the bedroom."

"Hermione, that's disgusting."

"It meant a lot to Harry. If he's happy, I'm happy for him."

Ron was silent for a suspiciously long time.

"What is it?" Hermione insisted, moving to stand. Ron helped her up and quickly retrieved the rogue toothpaste.

"It's just . . . Do you think Harry is the pitcher, or-"

Hermione's shocked laughter cut him off, and she braced a hand against the sink, as laughter roared through her.

"I'm serious!"

"I know, Ron. I just . . . Harry told me, but I'd rather let you wonder every time you see them together."

"That's just evil."

"Consider it payback for nine months of incubating your child."

"Point taken."

…

"I really don't think this is necessary, Potter."

"I disagree." Harry said simply, dropping onto a dressing room bench and crossing one leg over the other. They had just closed the restaurant for the night and had stopped at an all-night one stop where Harry insisted Severus try on clothes for their appearance at Christmas dinner.

Severus grumbled about societal pressure as he lugged a large pile of clothes into the dressing room and closed the door. Harry tried to wait patiently as Severus' complaints came muffled through the door and the attendant down the aisle scowled in his direction. Harry (narrowly) resisted the urge to stick his tongue out or something similar. After a few minutes, his foot tapping rhythmically, Harry called to ask Severus if everything way okay.

Severus stepped out of the dressing room with a studied blank expression, and Harry grinned. The navy blue dress shirt and light grey slacks were decent, to say the least. Harry would prefer the slacks to be a little more form fitting, but it had taken so long to find the proper inseam for Severus' height, he didn't want to push it.

"Turn around, will you, Severus?"

"I'm not a ballerina, Potter."

"Fine. Can you keep the slacks and try the purple shirt instead?"

"Maybe."

"Severus."

The older man went into the dressing room, slamming the door, and Harry smirked. Classic Severus, and it felt like it'd been forever since he'd bee this foul tempered. Harry'd kind of missed it. This was the man he'd fallen for, anyway. The ornery one. Several long minutes passed, and it became clear that Severus wasn't planning on coming out anytime soon.

Harry rose stiffly, and after stretching for a minute, knocked softly. "Severus? Are you alright?"

The response was lighting quick, and gruff. "Alas, I have died."

Harry sighed and tried the doorknob to no avail. "Unlock the door, Severus."

"And if I don't?"

Harry glanced down. "I'll have to shimmy my way under the door."

That did the trick. "You'll do no such thing." Severus bit out and tugged Harry inside. There was barely enough room for both of them, and Harry noticed Severus had neatly hung up the blue shirt and neglected to try on the purple.

"What's wrong, Sev?"

Severus glared before bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Did you ever see a full length mirror in my apartment?"

"No, just the bathroom one."

"Do I seem the type to . . . enjoy looking at myself?"

"No, not in particular." Harry admitted. He took a moment to look at Severus more carefully, taking in a few of the faint scars he'd never paid much attention to. Most of the time when Severus undressed, it was to go to sleep (in the dark), or to have sex (also mostly in the dark).

Harry reached out and traced a faint scar along Severus' forearm. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about it."

"It's not something I like to discuss. Sometimes I forget I even have them."

"But then someone stupid asks you to try on clothes."

"I stupidly agreed." Severus offered quietly, frowning at the floor.

"Well, I think the purple shirt will look better, anyway. Let's just-" Harry read the flash of rejection on Severus' face and stopped dead in his tracks. "Hold on, hold on." 

He sat on the chair in the corner of the dressing room and pulled Severus closer, running a thumb lightly over the scar on Severus' arm. The older man sighed and Harry pulled back to smile grimly.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I have plenty of scars, too." He raised a hand, the faint 'I must not tell lies.' visible in the sickly dressing room light. Severus closed his eyes, and Harry continued. "Not all of them are physical. But I know what it's like to forget and see them again. It makes you feel ashamed, right? Undeserving of affection?"

Severus stood unmoving, and Harry dared to lean forward and brush his lips along another scar, on Severus' ribs. Severus flinched, hard, but Harry held his hips tightly and continued to mouth a trail along the scar and down the hollow of his belly.

"I love everything about you, Severus. That includes your scars, physical, mental . . . Everything."

Severus released a shuddering breath, burying his fingers in Harry's hair as he found a jagged scar on his hip and nipped at it lightly. Harry pulled away and looked up at Severus, eyes bright in the eerie light of the dressing room. "Try on the purple shirt. Please." His voice was rough, and the hunger in his eyes sent a thrill through Severus, dark and sudden.

He reached over Harry and tugged the purple shirt off its hanger, sliding it over his shoulders and buttoning it quickly with an efficiency Harry admired. How many times had Severus had to compose himself quickly after sleeping with Lucius? The thought sickened him.

Severus stood with his arms folded and Harry nodded. "Perfect. This will do nicely." Severus nodded and began to unbutton the shirt.

"I'll be outside." Harry muttered, stepping out of the dressing room, a plan rumbling around in his head.

…

"Severus?" Harry called from the bedroom, and Severus shook the dream away and sat up. He and Harry had dozed off on the couch after a taxing night at the restaurant and clothing department. He'd needed the sleep, but perhaps not the crick in his neck from the sofa. He rose and padded into the bedroom where Harry sat on the bed, stark naked.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?"

"I wanted to show you something."

"Quite a few things, apparently."

Harry stood and held out a hand to Severus, who reluctantly clasped it in his own. He guided Severus' hand to the side of his neck and murmured, "Look." Severus slid their joined hands away and found 3 faint lines. "That was from one of Marge's dogs. I probably needed stitches, but I never got them." A few circular marks on the collarbone ("from the screws"), a tiny bald spot above Harry's ear ("fell down the stairs. I was pushed, actually").

Severus had always assumed Harry had the odd scar here and there from being a reckless child, but this was much more sinister. Like his own scars, it appeared Harry had acquired a few of his own from outright abuse.

"The Weasleys unofficially adopted me the first time Ron brought me home. Molly could tell they weren't feeding me; I was too small for my age." Severus nodded, understanding the sentiment. The Malfoys had all but adopted him, too. "But I wanted you to understand: I don't see your scars as a negative value. They're proof that you can survive anything. Like me."

Severus nodded mutely, pulling Harry off the bed and flush against him for a demanding kiss, pulling away only to remove his clothing, snorting a laugh as Harry joined him in the effort.

"I wanted to do this in the dressing room, but I didn't want to freak out the attendant." Harry said with a smirk.

"She was suspicious to begin with." Severus grunted, settling onto the bed and jerking his head to motion Harry closer. "We should have given her something to gape about."

Harry clambered onto the bed, settling himself over Severus, who moaned appreciatively. "If I knew you were into that kind of thing, I would have taken you clothes shopping a long time ago."

"I've never been 'into' that sort of thing." Severus muttered between kisses. "No one's ever looked at me like that. I-"  
...  
"You know, the last time I was here, Percy told me to never come back."

"Who is Percy?"

"One of Ron's brothers. You'll meet him tonight, unfortunately."

Harry and Severus arrived on the doorstep of the fondly-named "Burrow", a rundown house that was taller than wide, with soft light peeking through cracks in the curtains.

"This was my home away from home." Harry admitted. "They practically adopted me."

"They've missed you, more than likely."

"Probably." Harry took his hand from Severus' warm grasp and knocked on the door. After a few nerve-wracking moments, the door opened to reveal Charlie with a smile that grew when he saw Harry.

"Well, look who decided to grace us with his presence! Hey, Squirt!"

Harry stepped forward to accept Charlie's hug and introduced Severus.

Charlie smirked. "Ah, Snape. Nice to finally meet the infamous man who's been torturing my brothers." Harry bit his lip at the plural mention, while Severus smirked in return. 

"I only torture Potter and Weasley as much as they deserve."

Charlie laughed at that. "We're all Weasleys around here. You'll need to be more specific than that. Come on in. Ron and Hermione just got here, too."

Harry set down the presents he'd been holding in the foyer and stuck close behind Severus as Charlie led them to the living room.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she saw him, struggling to get up until Ron helped her off the couch. She made her way to Harry and hugged him, her pregnant belly separating them. "I wasn't sure you'd actually show up." She muttered into his shirt.

"Severus talked me into it. He can be persuasive when he wants to be."

"I'm sure." Hermione giggled, looking to Severus who was standing stiffly behind Harry, just out of earshot. "I suggest you make the rounds with Severus. Introducing him might keep you from getting too nervous."

Harry scanned the room quickly, looking for potential dangers, but no one was staring angrily and Ginny was nowhere in sight. Introducing Severus to the Weasleys didn't take long, although Arthur held them up for a bit, asking questions about the restaurant, which Severus answered with as little snark as possible. Harry was impressed. He left Severus with Arthur and decided to face his fears – one of them, anyway.

Molly was no doubt in the kitchen, slaving away to make sure everything went perfectly. Harry remembered that as her employee and future son-in-law, he'd often had to drag her away from a frustrating project so she could take a break. As he passed into the kitchen, he smiled at the sight of his surrogate mother wearing an apron over her Christmas dress. She seemed utterly focused on transferring cookies from the baking sheet to a plate.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Molly looked up, and the shock on her face was evident. Harry felt a stab of guilt for having stayed away long enough to incite that reaction.

"Harry? Oh, Harry!" she breathed, coming around the counter to hug him hard. After a second's hesitation, he hugged her back, murmuring, "I've missed you so much." and heard her echo back the sentiment. 

Molly pulled away, eyes brimming with tears. "I never meant for you to feel you could never come back again."

"I decided that.", Harry managed after a moment. "I didn't . . . I didn't think I deserved it." He looked around the kitchen as warmth welled in his chest. It held so many bright memories, with Ron and Ginny. 

Harry cleared his throat. "Ron's been keeping me pretty up to date. I know everyone's moved out now, that must be nice."

Molly laughed. "If you're asking if Arthur and I are enjoying having time alone again, I have to admit we are. Although, it is odd watching the grandchildren while their parents are working or having some alone time for themselves."

Harry smiled at this, imagining Ron and Hermione dropping off their toddler to go on a date. Would they work opposite shifts? He shook his head a little to clear the thought and sighed, reaching for a cookie and laughing when Molly smacked his hand away, as he knew she would. Even after all this time . . .  
Harry felt a lump begin to form in his throat, and after a moment, decided to just come out and say what he'd been wondering for weeks, a niggling thought in the back of his mind.

"Is Ginny, uh, happy? I heard she's dating?"

Molly smiled, pulling a stray hair behind her ear with a curled finger. "Yes, yes, you'll meet Dean tonight. He's a very sweet boy. I believe Ginny's moving on." She took a deep breath and smiled. "I heard you're dating, too?"

"Yes, uh, I'm dating Snape, our boss at the restaurant. He's . . . older." Harry laughed nervously. "I was worried about that earlier, but Arthur didn't seem to mind."

"No, he's never been too concerned with age. As long as you're happy with him, I suppose we'll just have to accept your decision, won't we?" Her smile dimmed a little. "I meant to ask you, Harry." She paused, blushing a little, which surprised the hell out of Harry. He'd never seen Mrs. Weasley embarrassed like that before. "Have you always been gay? Or is this . . . new? Some of the boys . . . Well, I've had to stop a few arguments about why you left, and I know you loved Ginny. You did."

"Yes, yes I did. I still do. Just not, not in the same way. You understand." Mrs. Weasley nodded, tears beginning to well. Harry cleared his throat, but the lump remained. "As for men, it's a new development. That's not why I left, at all. Severus is really the only one I-"

"Mom?"

Harry turned toward the door to see Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, staring.

"You came." She blurted, and Harry smiled, despite his hammering heart. 

"Yeah. Everyone ganged up on me, I couldn't say no."

Ginny nodded, tucking her gloves into her pocket. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too." Harry's voice was softer than he's meant it to be, and he looked down at his hands, nervously wringing the overlong sleeve of his sweater. "Can we talk tonight? Alone?"

"Of course. I'd like to." Harry looked into Ginny's eyes, flitted away, took note of her new coat and new, shorter hair. This Ginny was his fiancée and not. She looked older, calmer. Something had settled while he'd kept away. It had been painful, but apparently for the best.

Molly clapped and quickly finished transferring her cookies. "Well, let's get everyone to the table. Everything's ready."

…

Sitting at the Weasley's table with Severus by his side was surreal. He refrained from holding Harry's hand in light of their surroundings, but pressed his leg against Harry's beneath the table to maintain physical contact. Harry appreciated the small comfort. As far as Harry could tell, Ginny's boyfriend Dean was the nicest man on the entire planet. 

Despite that, Harry could tell that at some point Ginny had told him everything. Every once in a while his pleasant demeanor darkened and he studied Harry for a moment. Harry understood. How could he have left Ginny so soon after her miscarriage and come back into the fold with nary a screaming match? If Harry could venture a guess, he'd say Molly had ordered her children to accept him or at least keep quiet for one night. It just didn't seem natural.

Arthur stood, tapping his glass with a fork. "Alright, gang. I'm hungry, so I'll keep it short. I wanted to thank all of you for coming over. It's odd to think that my children are old enough to live elsewhere and be invited over. Or that they only stop by to drop off their own children."

Harry chuckled and glanced toward the children's table. The trademark Weasley hair was still going strong, apparently.

"That being said, I'd like to thank Harry for coming back to us." Harry caught Percy's murderous gaze and looked down to study his empty plate. "I'd also like to thank his guest, Mr. Snape, who not only hired Ron and introduced him to Hermione, but took on Harry as well."

"Is that what they're calling it nowadays?" Percy muttered, and Harry covered his face with a groan.

"Stop it." Ginny hissed to her brother from across the table. "I asked Mom to invite him; I'm obviously okay with Harry being here. And so what if he's dating his boss? At least he found someone to bring. What's your excuse, Percy?"

Percy blanched with anger and stood. "I was just concerned about your feelings, Gin."

"My feelings are fine. I'm a grown woman, you don't have to worry about them."

There was a tense silence at the table, broken only by a sneeze from the children's table. Fred stood suddenly and began to clap, with George hot on his heels to do the same.

"Bravo."

"Excellent."

"Award worthy."

"Riveting, truly."

Percy stormed out of the room, with Bill standing after a moment to follow him, snickering. Everyone at the table shifted uneasily, and Harry felt a little sick to his stomach. Percy was right. He didn't belong here, and he stood to leave.

"Harry?" Ron called across the table, and he looked concerned. "It's okay. Everyone else is glad you're here."

Harry looked around and saw that it appeared to be true. "I'm sorry, everyone." He said loudly, and the response was swift.

"Harry, dear," Molly said after the affirmations had died down. "We're happy to have you back." She clapped her hands and said, "Now, let's eat before you all starve to death."

…

After dinner, it was time to open presents. The children were vocal about who got how many and whose presents were better. Severus and Harry shared a look, and Severus gave him a flicker smile. They'd had a gift giving of their own earlier that day. Harry'd received a book titled, 'Life's Little Shortcuts' with a tidy "How to Survive if You Don't Actually Know How." written below in Severus' script. Severus had received a carbon steel kitchen knife, which he'd questioned Harry about, to no avail. Severus knew how much Harry made. How he'd saved enough money was declared a mystery, and the resulting kisses were well worth the interrogation.

They'd had a long discussion afterward about how neither had Christmas memories worth mentioning before age ten, how both had felt the sting of it early on and learned to ask for nothing . . . how both had the off-putting realization that their lack was far from the norm. For Harry, it was the first Christmas with the Weasleys, when Mrs. Weasley gave him a hand knitted sweater and had seen to it that he ate until he couldn't anymore. 

For Severus, it had been the first Christmas with Lucius, who had given him a simple copper bracelet. Harry found it comforting to finally have someone understand coming into acceptance from none. Severus claimed not to care, but Harry knew better. The way Severus held him afterward and abruptly got out of bed to prepare a too-large lunch with his new knife told him so.

The children finished opening their gifts and afterward complained about being sent to bed, but were given cookies and told to sleep so Santa would come. As soon as the adults were alone in the living room, a heavy silence permeated the room.

"So . . ." Bill began. "Are we gonna discuss the fact that Harry's gay now?"

"Yeah!" The twins chimed in together, laughing. "Fess up!" George called across the room.

There was a collective groan. "It's none of our business." Hermione said firmly. "Now, as my due date's been moved up twice and I'm hungry again, I want my presents!" Arthur and Molly stood to distribute, and soon everyone was settled with their presents as the Weasley Secret Santa dictated. It was a cruel coincidence that Dean had been selected as Harry's secret Santa. He felt Severus press his leg against his for support, and opened the present from Dean first.

Beneath the muted red wrapping paper was an origami kit, including a how-to guide and paper to start with. Harry thanked Dean with a genuine smile, and rose to shake his hand. Dean's smile seemed sincere, and again, Harry felt a pang for leaving Ginny the way he did. She deserved this kinder man, this better man.

Severus received a body wash set from Bill's wife Fleur, who blushed prettily when Severus thanked her fluently in French. 

Harry stared. "Since when?" he breathed. 

Severus merely smirked and leaned closer to murmur that there were many things Harry may never know, which caused him to blush. The Weasley clan erupted in laughter. Ron and Hermione were grinning, so Harry supposed being made fun of was worth it. His friends worried about him too much, he thought, with a smile.

Harry's second present was obviously a clothes box, but as there was no tag indicating who it was from. He suspected Hermione and Ron, but shrugged and opened it without asking. Harry stared, numb, as the tears began to well. It was a sweater. Similar to the first one Mrs. Weasley had made for him, but larger and the exact color of his eyes. He looked up to Molly, who looked to be fighting back tears as well. 

"I knew you'd outgrown the old one. I just wanted to make sure you stayed warm." Harry nodded, and the tears began to fall. He leaned onto Severus then, as he'd never done before in public, and Severus wrapped an arm around him and let him cry, even as Harry scolded himself mentally for being over-emotional. He'd missed his family, dammit. And apparently they'd missed him, too.

…

Later into the night, after a few embarrassing escapades were retold and everyone had eaten their fill of Christmas cookies, Harry sat curled into Severus on the sofa opposite Ginny and Dean. Fred and George stood near the fire, reciting alternate lines of a sonnet, part of the annual Weasley talent show. Harry smiled sleepily as everyone applauded and he thought to himself this might be his favorite Christmas so far.

"Alright, Harry, it's your turn." Hermione called, grinning.

"Nooo." He protested, but Severus was levering him off the couch, and he stood with a groan, standing awkwardly in front of the fireplace.

He rubbed his eyes and cleaned his glasses before clearing his throat. "First, I'll need a volunteer."

The adults shared glances and Severus stood with a grunt. "I deserve this. I talked him into coming."

Everyone chuckled and Severus moved to stand next to Harry. "And now, I need a quarter."

Fred popped up, digging in his pocket dramatically before producing a filthy looking nickel. "I have one, Harry. I just so happened to have one."

Harry squinted. "That's a nickel, Fred."

"Ungrateful!" Fred spat out, and sat down.

Harry laughed, despite himself. "Anyone else?"

Ron stood and gave Harry a quarter. "I want that back."

"We'll see." Harry said with a cheeky grin and bowed. "Ladies and gentlemen, for my first trick, I will make this quarter disappear."

Fred and George gasped audibly and even Percy smiled. Everyone knew Harry loved magic tricks, but it appeared Severus had no idea. He was eyeing Harry with skepticism.

"First, Severus, please verify that this quarter is real."

Severus scowled, but he took the offered quarter and eyed it closely, attempting to bend it, then biting it gingerly. "It's . . . passable." He said with a grimace and handed it back.

Harry chuckled and positioned Severus so they were facing each other, with their sides to the audience and the fire. "Alright.", he announced. He had done this a thousand times. The fact that Severus was his victim of choice this time made no difference. He calmly displayed the quarter in the hand closest to the audience, looking into Severus' eyes. "I'm going to switch hands now." He looked to the other hand as if concentrating on moving the quarter from one hand to the other, whooping mentally as Severus followed his gaze to his fist closing on nothing, the quarter tucked safely in the fingers of his other hand.

Harry grinned and held his fist up to Severus. "Blow, please."

Severus looked back to him, eyebrow raised, but eventually blew on Harry's fist. Harry smiled and opened his fist, waving his empty hand around and trying his damnedest to look surprised at the room full of Weasleys. "Well, damn. I've misplaced my quarter." Harry looked into Severus' eyes for a moment, grinning, then glanced to the side, frowning. "What the hell?" He reached up and slipped the hidden quarter back between his pointer finger and thumb, as if pulling it from Severus' ear. "How odd. Severus, have you had trouble hearing?" The Weasleys clapped politely, having seen this trick more times than necessary, as Harry refused to change his act every year. Severus shook his head, but his smirk gave him away. Harry laughed, returning the quarter to Ron before taking his seat on the couch. He looked over to see Ginny watching him with a small smile. They'd learned that trick together, practicing over and over until they both could do it in their sleep. Harry smiled back.

Hermione and Ron were the last ones to participate in the talent show, at their own request. "Merry Christmas, everyone." Ron started off, and everyone (besides Severus) returned the sentiment. "For our talent, we wanted to amaze you all, and prove that two heads are truly better than one."

Severus looked to Harry for a clue, but Harry just shrugged. Besides advice on Secret Santa, Hermione and Ron had been pretty close mouthed about their plans for Christmas.

"Now, without further ado . . ." Hermione paused for a moment, long enough for George to mutter something about false advertisement.

There was a knock on the door, and everyone looked toward the foyer. "Was someone else coming?" Arthur said, looking around. Molly frowned and shook her head. Hermione grinned and walked out into the foyer, opening the door to reveal Albus Dumbledore in the most ridiculous suit Harry had ever seen, bright red with Christmas trees and snowflakes alternating throughout.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS!" Albus thundered, arms in the air.

"The children are asleep!" Molly hissed.

"Oh, I am so sorry." Dumbledore amended, flowing into the room to kneel before Molly and Arthur. "It's just, well, they should be awake for the wedding."

"Wedding?" Molly gasped, looking to Hermione and Ron for confirmation. Both were nodding with grins a mile wide. "Mr. Dumbledore is an ordained minister, and Ron and I asked him to marry us tonight. He's right on time."

The Weasley clan stood and hugged and caused a general ruckus, and the children began to drift downstairs, asking about Santa and why he was here so early. Harry found Ron in the chaos and couldn't decide whether to strangle him or hug him to death. Maybe both. In no particular order. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." Ron said, leaning in so Harry could hear him over the din. "We weren't even sure you were coming. But we wanted you here. You're family to both of us." Harry grinned and hugged Ron hard.

Severus even managed to congratulate Ron and Hermione without a trace of insincerity. "If this affects your work performance, I'll demand you divorce immediately." he deadpanned, and Hermione laughed. 

"Somehow, I knew you would say that. You're so romantic, Severus."

It took a while to herd the children upstairs, though they were more cooperative once "Santa" told them they'd get better gifts if they went right back to sleep. Harry watched Dumbledore carry a sleepy toddler upstairs and wondered if she would remember this Christmas, when a thin Santa woke everyone up and caused an uproar. 

Once everyone was settled back downstairs, Hermione and Ron stood before the fireplace, having changed into formal clothing they'd sneaked into the house labelled as a gift to themselves. Dumbledore stood behind them, smiling. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today . . . Well, for Christmas, originally. But now for a wedding. I believe the bride and groom have their own vows?"

"Yes." Ron said, pulling folded pieces of paper out of his jacket. "Hermione, would you like to go first?"

"I suppose. It's only polite." She took the paper from Ron with a smile, and Harry was the only one to notice her hand was shaking just a bit. She hid it well, but Hermione was nervous. Harry felt a pang in his chest and looked over to Ginny, who was saying something quietly to Dean at the moment. This could have been them, Harry thought. He would have loved to get married on Christmas in front of the family. Ah, well. They could discuss that later. He took Severus' hand for the hell of it, and squeezed before letting go. Severus grabbed his hand again after a moment.

"Ronald Weasley." Hermione began. "The first time I saw you, you came out of the walk-in with a bin of spinach and I thought, 'Wow, he's got nice arms'. And then I noticed your hair." There was a wave of quiet laughter through the room. Most of the Weasley couples had a similar story. "I thought, 'It's so bright'. And you looked at me, and I got so nervous, I told Severus that I could say the alphabet backwards. During my interview, no less." Harry and Severus both laughed abruptly. Severus had never told Harry that before, but it sounded about right.

"I realize now that coming into the restaurant as an assistant manager is the best thing I could have done for myself, romantically. I made sure you were around me as much as possible, and when you finally asked me out, I knew that my degree in business had finally paid off."

Fred and George were bent over in stifled laughter. Harry smiled. He loved his family.

"And now, we're going to have a wonderful child, and even though you've asked me for as long as I can remember, first with your eyes, and now with your words . . ." Hermione looked up at Ron and smiled, re-folding her paper. "I'm ready to get married. I'd love to marry you, Ron."

Hermione blushed as the Weasleys clapped and Ron smiled nervously and unfolded his paper, staring blankly until Dumbledore reached forward to turn it upright.

"Ah, right." Ron nodded. "Hermione finally said yes, and now I have to figure out what to say in front of everyone. So, here goes." Ron refolded the paper and threw it into the fire. "I didn't write anything. I thought I'd just say whatever comes to mind."

"Ronald." Molly scolded, but Ron just smiled and raised his hands in surrender. "It won't take long, I promise." He chuckled nervously and coughed.

"Hermione, I love that you're smarter than me. You can figure things out, you help me understand things from another angle. I love that you never stop thinking, you never stop working. I wish you worked less, most of the time, because you're always tired. I worry about you every day." Hermione nodded, tears welling.

"I love your hair, no matter how humid it is outside. I love your smile, even though you try to hide it. Your teeth are beautiful. Did you know that? I don't think I ever told you that. And . . . it amazes me that you read so much. You basically know everything. I don't worry about you being a great mother, because you already are. In theory." Hermione laughed at that. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you finally said yes. So I'm going to show you, every day, until we both die of natural causes after long, happy lives. Or not. Whichever."

Hermione hugged Ron as much as her belly would allow as Dumbledore wiped a rogue tear and cleared his throat. "Are there any objections to this union?"

Fred and George both stood. "I'm in love with Ron." They said in unison, and glared at one another.

Their mother stood with a look that could kill. "Sit. Down."

Harry laughed and glanced up at Severus, who looked deep in thought. Harry nudged him with an elbow, and Severus looked down at him. "What, child?"

"Nothing. Just checking. You haven't said anything sarcastic all night."

"I'm saving it for the maid-of-honor speech."

"Ah." Harry raised Snape's hand to kiss it and leaned into the older man, closing his eyes for a moment. Maybe he was getting older, or maybe it was Severus' influence on him, but he was dead tired.

Dumbledore chuckled at the twins antics. "If there are no further interruptions . . . By the powers vested in me by someone who thought I was more responsible, I now pronounce you man and wife."

The Weasley family stood and clapped along with Harry and Severus, and the newlyweds exchanged rings and kissed. Someone tapped Harry on the shoulder and he turned to see it was Ginny, with the same soft smile from the magic show. "Harry, can I talk to you?"

"Yeah, of course." 

He followed Ginny as she led him away, upstairs into her old bedroom, which hadn't changed a bit since they'd moved out into their apartment, an eternity ago. There weren't any sleeping Weasley children in there at the moment, which Harry was grateful for. 

They sat on the bed, and after a moment, smiled at each other, remembering. Harry looked away, sighing and trying his best to relax. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye, Gin. I was afraid."

Ginny shook her head. "It wouldn't have worked forever. I was upset for the longest time, convinced I could have done more, I could have done something differently, but . . . Not everyone is like my parents, Harry." She caught his gaze. "Not everyone falls in love at fourteen and stays the way."

Harry held eye contact and said, sincerely, "I didn't support you when you needed me."

"I didn't ask for enough help." Ginny sounded calm, though Harry could tell she was fighting back tears. "I tried to handle it like an 'adult', and I pushed you away. I think we're both better off, anyway. You seem happy with Severus."

Harry smiled weakly. "I am. But that doesn't mean we didn't have a chance for the same thing."

"No, it doesn't." Ginny agreed. She smoothed a wrinkle in the bedspread. "I've learned a lot, though. I learned how strong I could be when I had to get out of bed every day and be productive again."

Harry nodded. "I lost my family for a few months, there. That was probably the worst part."

Ginny scowled. "At first, I was angry they missed you at all. I mean, I'm a Weasley by blood, and I thought you were the one that hurt me, not the other way around. But they had every right to care about you. You're basically my brother, with how often you were here." 

Ginny smiled and added, "You were also conveniently cute and not related to me, so we were destined to be, right?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. This was more like the Ginny he remembered, before the miscarriage. "Do you remember our plans? Like the dog rescue?"

"The flower shop." Ginny blurted. "That was probably my favorite. I had this fantasy about kissing you in a room full of daisies."

Harry smiled and took Ginny's hand gently in his. "Do you think we would have stayed together if we'd had the baby?"

Ginny frowned at that. "Probably. But I don't know how happy we would have been after a few years. I'm finding that I like being independent. I've actually started a business as a personal stylist. It's been decent. Difficult, but . . . I like the challenge."

"I dressed Severus for tonight." Harry admitted, and Ginny's surprised laugh made him smile. He'd missed making her laugh. "I picked out his clothes and we almost made out in the dressing room."

"You always were into stuff like that, somewhat public." Ginny smirked. "Remember the broom closet before graduation?"

"Your graduation or mine?" Harry mused. "Or was it both? Oh my god, I think we managed both."

Ginny laughed outright, and Harry had the overwhelming urge to kiss her quiet, so he did. It was gentle, and nothing like kissing Severus. Nothing like kissing Ginny, either, from what he remembered. 

Ginny pulled away first, taking her hand back, too. "Don't take this the wrong way, but, I have to give Dean bragging rights on that one."

"That's alright, Gin. I've had to avoid stubble for a few months. I'm sure I've gotten worse."

Ginny shook her head, exasperated, and looked at Harry with a serious expression. "Are you okay with this? I've forgiven you for leaving me, I've gotten better. Are you okay?"

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, considering carefully. He wanted to be honest with her this time. She deserved that much. 

"Yes and no. I mean, I'm happy for you. Dean seems great, and you've obviously grown up a bit. But . . . I haven't forgiven myself yet. It's been haunting me, and it's going to take a while now that I've finally heard it from you. I've been telling myself I'm a piece of shit for so long, I've started to believe it. And Severus is helping, but he's got his own past to deal with and . . . Sometimes I catch myself thinking that we're broken, and we're trying to fix each other. It's not supposed to be that way, is it?"

"I have no idea." Ginny admitted, taking his hand again. "Dean's never had his heart broken. He's been very understanding, but he just doesn't understand what I've been through. Maybe you're lucky you and Severus are so alike. You can only get better from here, right?"

"I hope so." Harry said, and he stood, pulling Ginny up with him. "Better get down there. You know what they say about two people disappearing together for too long . . ."

...

Later that night, as Harry and Severus said their goodbyes, Severus took the chance to insult Dumbledore on his choice of clothing. The older man just smiled happily and took a Christmas cookie from the overflowing plate Molly had given them upon leaving. "To each his own. Goodnight, boys."

Ron and Harry shared a bout of hysterical laughter when Harry mentioned his and Hermione's wedding night. "Honestly, we'll probably go straight to sleep. It's been a long day."

"Us, too." Harry nodded, looking to Severus hopefully. He was speaking to Hermione with a stern expression, but she was smiling a little, and afterward, hugged him for an uncomfortably long time, by Severus' darkening expression. Harry laughed, and they switched newlyweds. Harry told Hermione to have Ron draw her a bubble bath, a she'd undoubtedly earned it. Hermione said she'd think about it, though at this rate, she might fall asleep and drown. Harry chuckled and they looked at each other for a moment and hugged. Harry pulled away and rubbed Hermione's shoulders. "You are the most beautiful woman in the world right now."

"You're lacking any empirical evidence, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Harry laughed. "Never change, Hermione. Ron needs more 'empirical evidence' in his life."

Once home, Harry put his Weasley sweater on, and Severus smirked at the sight of him at the foot of the bed in his pajama bottoms and too-large sweater.

"I have full clearance from Ginny, Severus. She forgave me months ago. And she thinks Dean is a better kisser."

"Oh really?" Severus said coolly, turning down the covers on Harry's side of the bed. "Get over here."

Harry slid into bed, only to have Severus maneuver above him.

"I'm tired." Harry complained. "I just want to sleep."

"You can't mention kissing your ex and think I won't need to rectify that before going to sleep." Severus said with a frown, cupping Harry's jaw gently and looking into his eyes for a moment. "I'm sick of this sappy nonsense. But you know me."

"Yes, I do." Harry agreed, smiling into the possessive kiss that came afterward. He wrapped his arms around Severus and arched into him, before pulling away to yawn. "Please, I'm tired."

Severus rolled his eyes, but laid beside Harry anyway, pulling him closer to spoon. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Harry agreed, yawning. And they slept.


End file.
